#they don’t seem to be as bad as they used to be

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 15)

first chapter >> last chapter

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Sleep eludes you. You toss and turn that first night, not used to sleeping on your own. Every sound makes you jump. When the sky goes black and the bushes rustle with the breeze, you have to double check the locks on the doors no less than three times, fastening it with the wooden bolt just to be safe. 

Without John around, the world is twice as loud; crickets chirp raucous melodies, buzzing so loud that sometimes you swear there must be one on the pillow right beside your head, and, in the distance, an owl hoots at an interval so irregular that each screech tugs you back from the brink of sleep. The house groans as it settles into itself; the first time you hear it, you spring upright in bed, heartbeat erratic, certain that it’s the sound of someone coming up the porch steps. 

You collapse back onto the mattress with a huff when you finally recognize the sound for what it is. 

You don’t sleep well that night. Dawn finds you awake before its arrival. The songbirds keep you from drifting off back to sleep when the first wispy rays of sunlight creep over the horizon, and you lie in bed until the possibility of sleep is well behind you. That makes you huff, bitter over the loss. 

Again, the day is slow to come over you. It seems almost reluctant to really get going, the sunlight clear and the air brisk but the day itself slow moving. An early morning chill forces you to don heavier garments than usual. 

After breakfast, you take Buttercup into the paddock to run around, watching her from the edge of the pen, humming to yourself under your breath. 

Most of the morning is spent cleaning and doing chores around the house. You muck the stables, feed the horses, scrub the dirty laundry on the washboard before hanging it up on the line, weed the garden, and promise yourself that next week you’ll work up the energy to boil linseed oil to polish and oil the furniture. As it is, you stagger into the kitchen around midday for lunch, sticky with sweat. 

Kate comes up the path on horseback not too long after that, a large swooped hat perched precariously on her head. She has to hold it in place by the brim to keep it from flying off. You watch her from the window at first, drying your hands from the quick wash you gave them after finishing your lunch.

“I ought to start making new friends,” you quip when she takes a seat next to you on the porch swing. 

“Sick of my company already?” she laughs. 

“Well, a girl’s gotta have options.” 

She snorts at that, tipping her hat lower on her head to shade her eyes from the sun. It has the effect of cutting a wide shadow across her face, leaving only a swath of white teeth exposed. 

Her beauty has always come as an afterthought. Tanned, freckled skin, and hair like golden wheat. But you look now and you see something different than the woman you’re used to seeing, and it dawns on you that what you’re seeing now is a version of Kate divorced from the idea of her that you’d always had in your head. Almost fuller; more robust. 

You tear your eyes away only when she catches you staring and cocks an eyebrow. 

She coaxes you into saddling Buttercup up and accompanying her on a trail ride. Part of you resists initially, still wounded from your last ride, and when Kate presses you for more information, you reluctantly divulge, recounting the events from the weeks prior with a tremble in your voice. She nods only once while you speak, keeping her comments to herself. That she must have already known doesn’t surprise you; she’d insinuated as much only the other week. 

You’d be wise to not keep secrets from Kate in the future, you realize. Best to keep someone as omniscient as her on your side. 

After some encouragement, she talks you into a leisurely stroll and even helps you dress Buttercup in the stables. The dizzying spell of apprehension settles over you like a heavy fog up until you blink and realize that the two of you have been riding beside each other in silence for the better part of a half mile. 

The fear doesn’t entirely evaporate, however. Any sudden dip in the terrain or unexpected noise from Buttercup makes you start. You take several breaks to breathe and walk around. At the top of a hill, you ask Kate in a voice verging on shrill if you can take a break and dismount before she’s even answered you. 

“She can sense if you’re on edge,” Kate reminds you, nodding to where Buttercup grazes in a nearby patch of grass. 

“Well, I can’t help that much. I am on edge.”

She tips her head back to look at the sky and sighs before looking back at you. “Sit down for a bit then. It’s not a race.”

And you do, for a spell. You sit and rest with your back against the trunk of a tree that branches high above you, the canopy blotting out any sunlight save for the tendril thin strands that sink through like stones in water. 

You’re striking a delicate balance between the needs of the flesh and the needs of the soul. What the soul wants is to push itself beyond the boundaries that formerly enclosed it; after a lifetime of servitude and desires suppressed, even a simple trail ride feels momentous. What the flesh wants, however, is to shade in the shade until the urge to retch wears off. 

The walk takes the two of you by a farm with a large, fenced-in enclosure. A couple houses sit around the enclosure. The smell of the livestock is pungent at first and your nose wrinkles as you approach the farm, but you adjust after a time. 

Recent weeks so far from home have spoiled you; back in the city, the pungent stench of waste and manure was commonplace, the sour cloak of tobacco stinking up the alehouses and alleyways as much as the parlors and lounges. You’d adjusted to it back then as well. 

The grazing cows rumble and low behind the fence. It’s a pleasant bucolic scene, one lifted straight from a painting that you swear you’ve seen before, though the artist’s name escapes you. 

Looking out into antediluvian pastures sets your heart at ease. When the farmer wanders out of the barn to greet the two of you, the two of you join him and his wife for coffee in the big house. 

For a brief period of time, it’s like stepping out of your body; there’s no impetus to get a move on, and inertia doesn’t set in like a rolling fog leaving you stranded in no man’s land. Nothing like the late evenings lying in bed in your aunt and uncle’s apartment, staring up at the pockmarked ceiling and praying for something to change. 

You, simply, have a coffee.

After bidding them farewell, the bulk of the afternoon is spent at Kate’s house, a tiny plot of land just outside of town surrounded by fields of ochre prairie grass. You’re wiped by the end of the ride, sweat running in rivulets down your back. While Kate brings the horses into her little stable to let them rest and eat, you fill up the porcelain bowl in her bathroom with water to wash your face. 

It’s quiet. You help with a few affairs around the house and you learn, to your own internal amusement, that Kate hums through her chores. Soap stops by in the early evening to drop off Kate’s mail and stays for supper, glad for the company. You watch bemusedly as he scarfs down three corned beef sandwiches with ease, mildly nauseated by the way he talks with his mouth full. 

“Can he even breathe?” you hiss to Kate while Soap is busy shoveling food into his gob. 

She nods, unbothered by the display in front of her. “You should see him when he’s actually hungry.”

You pale when he belches, pushing your plate away from you.

“Ye tell yer man when he’s back what a good job I’ve done, Mrs. Price,” he says, licking a leaking trail of sauce off his thumb. 

“Won’t the town still standing be sufficient evidence?”

“Aye, but it’s sweeter comin’ from the missus, ye dinnae think?” 

Incorrigible boy. You shake your head, acquiescing even if only to get him to shut up. That mollifies him, gets him crowing about the raise he’ll get, or the commendation. You think he’ll start going on about lofty aspirations towards sheriffdom, but he never quite gets to that point. You wonder if the rest of your life will be similarly composed of assumptions that fall flat when you look at them too hard.

He takes you home at the end of the night as a favor to Kate, who watches you from the door until she disappears into the faraway. You only have to yell at Soap twice to slow down when he tries to goad you into a faster gallop. 

You sleep better that night, but only just. This time, it’s the empty spot beside you on the bed that bothers you. His pillow is cold when you reach over to touch it. Your hand lingers on the pillow; there’s a passing thought that maybe the warmth of your hand will transfer into the pillow and trick you in sleep. You have another passing thought that maybe somewhere out there, wherever John is, he’ll feel a phantom hand creep across the bed to cup his cheek. 

The blooming flower of daylight comes again to wake you up and the cycle starts anew. 

The chores never end, but there’s some comfort in routine. Regularity breeds familiarity. Any contempt has long been bled out of you, almost without you even noticing.

The days pass slowly. A horse-drawn carriage. A robin nestled in the branches of a pine tree sings at evening twilight. You look up to find it stark against the dark green needles, the fir’s red heart.

A neighbor comes by with fresh strawberries that you eat from the bowl out in the sun, lying down in the grass by the paddock. You suck the juice out of a big one when you bite into it and it drips messy down your chin. When the achenes fleck off, you wipe them off on your dress. 

Though you half expect Kate to come by, she never does. Perhaps she’s busy in town. You remind yourself that the brevity of your friendship can hardly measure up to competing priorities. Minding the shop, for instance, or stopping by to check on other acquaintances. 

And then the waiting ends when you see a dark shadow on the horizon that you recognize all at once as a man on horseback headed towards the house. 

Elation clambers up your throat. You very nearly shout at the sheer sight of him, but at the last second, you manage to reign it in. 

You wave at John from the porch when you can finally make out the face of the man riding up the path. Despite the euphoric wave that washes over you at the sight of him, you feign composure, keeping your butt planted on the porch swing until he dismounts and heads down the path towards you.

There's something striking about watching him from a distance. Like Kate, you see him now from a new angle, an added weight to him. When he lumbers up the porch steps, you don't just see the man that dragged you to the court house and forced you to marry him, but a man in his prime. Square, masculine jaw; thick thighed. Something in your belly stirs when he rolls his shoulders back, accentuating the breadth of them. 

When he reaches you, he grips you under the arms to pull you up, but your arms wind around his neck without any coaxing, meeting him halfway. Every inch of your body presses into his, and he smells and feels exactly as you remembered. 

“Been missing you like hell, sweetheart,” John rasps into your ear. 

“Missed you too,” you mutter, lips smushed into a kiss against his cheek. 

And you did, didn’t you? You can say it for once without worrying that you’ll fall apart. 

The two of you stumble into the house in a daze. Your hands are already trembling well before you fist them into John’s hair to drag him into a kiss. Desperation claws up your throat, need choking you when you go to tell him how much you missed him. You missed him bone deep. 

He pulls away briefly, chuckling when you whine. “Darlin’, can I at least get cleaned up? I’m a mess.”

His beard has grown since you last kissed him, the mutton chops more pronounced now. It scratches your lips and cheeks when you tug him back down for a deeper kiss. He can clean himself later as far as you’re concerned. You’ve gone three days now without your husband and you can’t go a second more. 

You can feel his smile when he breaks the kiss again. “Honey—”

“No,” you cut him off, a whine threading your voice. You tighten your arms around his neck, pushing your bosom into his chest. “Please, John, don’t make me wait; I can’t—”

“Alright, alright,” John sighs, and then hunches slightly to fit his hands under your thighs  and hike you up his body until your legs wind around his waist. “Poor girl. Never seen you this needy before. You missed me that bad?”

“Yes,” you answer succinctly, already pressing kisses into the sweaty skin of his neck and his cheeks. His arms shake when he laughs.

He nearly trips up the stairs when you suck at the salty skin of his neck. 

John smiles amusedly when you whip your dress off, nearly getting tangled in it before letting it pile on the floor by the bed. 

In a different time, your eagerness might embarrass you, but you’re well beyond that now. It’s impossible to hear that distant voice in your head shrieking modesty when your husband watches you indulgently and unbuttons his shirt so slowly that you nearly bark at him to hurry it up. And then you actually do when he goes to fold his shirt instead of simply tossing it to the floor.

He laughs; it sends frissons of heat down your spine. 

It’s unclear who pursues and who is pursued this time. All you know is that you either push him onto the bed or he pulls you down with him, clothes long since stripped and piled onto the floor. Your hands sink into the meat of his chest when you sit astride his lap, wet folds grinding on the hard shaft jutting up between his legs. John hisses through clenched teeth, already worked up, fit to burst. You wonder if he tended to himself at all on his trip, whether he even had time. 

The hands tightening around your waist tell you that, whether or not he did, it’s inconsequential now when faced with the thing he’s been wanting most.

Your instinct is to lift your hips and line his member up with your sopping entrance before sinking down, but John surprises you by shifting up the bed and dragging you with him, not stopping until your pussy is hovering over his mouth. 

It’s easy to panic over that, easy to grow skittish. You start when the flat of his tongue runs up the seam of your cunt, the only thing keeping you from tumbling off the bed altogether being the big hands clamped around your hips.  

“You try to keep your pussy off my face and I’ll give you a licking you won’t like anywhere near as much,” John warns, and then pulls you down onto his face without further ado. 

Your back arches at the first lick, his tongue burrowing into your hole, softened by the slick leaking out of you. His lips and tongue work you over until you’re a shivering, coiled mess on top of his face, hands braced against the wall and toes burrowing into the mattress. 

A stiff tongue stabs up into your hole. The groan he lets out at the taste of you vibrates through you, making you clench around his tongue. 

You’ve never been much of a drinker, but you feel drunk now, grinding on his mouth. Hands running through his hair. Blissed out, sex leaking, throbbing. Shameful noises pouring out of you unbidden, your inhibitions packed up and long gone by now. His upper lip glistens with your juices and when his eyes blink open, they’re nearly black with desire. 

The hands on your bottom holding you over his head grip into you good and tight. He readjusts his hold on you whenever you try to pull off his face, yanking you back down and digging his fingers in harder, the tips wedged between your cheeks. You practically yowl when a finger prods at your back hole, worrying over the puckered flesh. 

The time for gentle words is far beyond him. When you glance down between your legs, his hair is matted with sweat and disheveled, a flush high on his cheekbones. Blue eyes peer out through slits, locked on the dripping mess between your thighs. His nose presses hard into your pubic bone when he pulls you down onto his waiting mouth, lips parting and tongue sawing over your clit. That part you can’t see, but you feel the wet slide of his tongue over your slit. 

You come with a finger lodged knuckle deep in your ass and his tongue rolling over your clit, coaxing it from you. Your whole body pulses and shivers. Chuckling to himself when you go dumb during it, slumped over him and panting hard. Tears dripping down your cheeks that John cleans up himself with his tongue when he drags you back down his chest and rolls the two of you over. 

“God, you look so pretty like this, honey,” he coos when he’s got you under him, pinching your cheeks between his fingers until your lips go plump and pursed. 

When he drags you into a kiss, his tongue still tastes of you. 

He takes you on your back after that, knees over his shoulders and bending you in ways you didn’t think possible. Whatever control he had before is gone now. He thrusts in to the hilt the second he gets you flat on your back, taking three days of frustration out on you, near punching your cervix with the head of his cock. 

“There we go— fuck—” John growls. “C’mon, squeeze me tight, honey; make me come in your pretty fuckin’ pussy.”

You feel like a creature turned inside of itself. All high yips, sharp pangs of pleasure, an ache in your hips that you know instinctively will worsen by morning, and a deep seated, unquenchable need. He mates you like a beast in heat, jaw clenched and brows furrowed; when your eyelids slip shut, he growls at you to keep them open, and you do only to find him staring down at you with that indelible, maddening intensity of his. 

“Nngh, John—John—” you gasp.

“Just a little, darlin’—shh, c’mon, just take it. Like that, yes—that’s it.” 

A dark urge flutters under your skin, blinking its eyes open. You stare up at him through half lidded eyes. “Gonna come in me and give me a baby, John?”

His eyes go black. “I’m gonna fill this tight cunt right up, you keep talking like that.”

You reach up to rake your hands through his hair. "Please give me a baby, John. Give me it, please."

His hips snap forward, knocking the breath out of you. He pounds into you with renewed vigor, lost in it, your nipples tagging his chest with every thrust. 

If you could peel back your skin and tuck him into your ribcage, you would. He’s already in you anyway; everywhere it counts. Leathery musk wafting under your nose, sweat-slicked skin, his spend deep in your cunt and leaking out around his throbbing cock, the heat steaming off him and warming you from the outside in and inside out. His come spurts into you hot and viscous, so deep that you swear you can taste it at the back of your throat. 

In the aftermath, you curl up against his chest and he traces a finger lazily up and down your spine. 

“You’ve been so patient with me.” You don’t know what prompts you to say that, but you know it’s been sitting in your chest and waiting for you to put it to words. 

His fingers pause in their ministrations, his hand resting flat on your back. “Patient?”

“Don’t play dumb, John. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Got some nerve accusing me of playing dumb,” he chuckles softly, leaning down to butt his forehead against yours. 

You nearly go cross eyed. Doe eyed. Treacle tart soft in your chest. You wonder if you’ll look back on this someday in fear and awe, and think that is the very moment when you finally let him in. 

This is how love suffuses into the girl: you wake up gasping to find it staring down at you. 

You’re brave enough now to ask what it is that you need. The world flashes briefly before you: in it, you see every possible version of a girl, how she goes from animal skin to teeth glinting in the night. She is perforated and vibrating; lacunae as the voice drips back into the sea, papyrus crackling hot in the fire. 

Maybe new love flounders again against the rhythms of the old, the song of you now sleeping beneath an alder tree, thickening with lemon and honey.

“I’m going to…—you know I’ll tell you. I just need time.”

“Darlin’, I know. There’s no use for rushing things. It happens when it happens,” John murmurs. He drops a bristly kiss on your forehead. 

“…And if it doesn’t happen?”

He shrugs. “Then it doesn’t happen.”

It’s a shock when love finds you because you don’t expect it. You’d open the door to anything else in a heartbeat, but it’s love that finds you cowering under the stairs. 

Love is not something you’ve ever touched, not even grazed. You recognize the insidious rot of lust or the gnarled grip of possession, but love? That has yet evaded your attempts on it. Not that you’ve ever given it a good go. 

But now, when you think of it, it looks at you through blue eyes. 

You sleep on it. You don’t contemplate when it’ll happen only because you know it’s inevitable. Your lips have already grown loose. When he eats you out in the early morning hours after a good night’s sleep for once since John left, you have to swallow back the wails of I love you, I love you, tell me you love me, please, please. 

Your lips part, lax. Only sinking your mouth down over his turgid length after he’s made you come keeps you from accidentally saying the words. The soft, grunted fuck he lets out at that empties out any thought in your head.

Desperate times, desperate measures. 

If John knows, he jealously guards your secret. Would take it to his grave you think. Just for him and you to know. Any temerity from the night before is squashed in the light of day, and you sit across from him at the table during breakfast wishing that he could hear the words in your head, if only so you didn’t have to say it out loud. 

God bites the lip when you want it most to part. Isn’t that just the nature of life?

John leaves you off at the general store as always, dropping a peck to your lips before heading out on his way, but when you wander inside, you find Miles behind the counter instead of Kate. That dims the excitement in your chest a tad. It’s no fault of his, but you’d hoped to regale Kate with the revelation you’d had the night previous, omitting some of the lewder details. Instead you’ll be forced to wait until she’s back in town. When you ask Miles when abouts that’ll be, he shrugs, unable to give you a definite answer.

“Visiting a friend, she said,” he tells you, and you blink like you don’t know exactly what that means. 

Her absence leaves you in a lurch though, little else to do but wander around the store. You’d leave entirely and try to find something else to occupy your time, but you feel a bit foolish coming in just to leave right away, though you’re sure Miles wouldn’t care either way. Still, you tell yourself you’ll linger for a few minutes before heading out to the library or down the road for a coffee at the inn. 

The bell over the door jingles, but you pay it no mind. 

You linger in the aisle with the fruit preserves and canned fish, gazing into the bottles. Tins with hand-drawn labels, branded packaging. On another shelf, you find oyster crackers, National Biscuit Company on the label. Nabisco. If Kate were minding the shop, you’d pop your head around the aisle to ask her what corned beef brand she used the other day. 

The sound of spurs jangling from behind you makes you frown and turn your head. 

A hand clamps down over your mouth, muffling the yelp that leaps instinctively from your throat, and you go shock cold when the blunt muzzle of a pistol wedges against the small of your back. 

“Bet you thought you were clever gettin’ me out of town, didn’t you, girl?”

Your eyes widen.

[katszumi]

“have you seen the abs on that man?” hagakure sat across of you. “sexy on a stick, i swear!” she giggles. she was going on and on about the guy that starred in the superman movie you girls put on last night. henry cavill was his name.

mina agrees with her statement with a nod. “he’s the hottest white man i’ve ever seen before.”

“sure, he was hot, but are we forgetting the misogynist comments he’s made? sexy is one thing, but being controversial is a whole ‘nother thing.” uraraka inserted her input.

“oh, please. i’d cook and clean for him anyday he asks.” mina retorted. both uraraka and yaoyorozu shake their head in shame.

“speaking of controversial.” uraraka murmurs under her breath, you peer over your shoulder, wondering the intent of her statement.

you notice bakugou making his way over to your desk, his eyes planted on you and you only. you shift uncomfortably. why the hell would he be coming to you? did you do something?

once he makes his way to your desk, you look up at him with a half smile.

“hey, bakugou. what’s up?”

his eyes analyze the other girls before looking back down on you.

“my pencil?”

you flutter your lashes at him. “pencil..?” you repeated in a trance of confusion.

he groans. “the fuckin’ pencil i gave you last week. i need it back.”

now it all clicks. you nod, laughing nervously because of your stupidity. you reach in your backpack and grab the black mechanical pencil that you forgot to lend back to bakugou.

your arm extends to the male in front of you, waiting for him to snatch it back.

“sorry.”

he gently grasped onto the pencil, his hand brushing against your fingers for a small moment.

“it’s whatever. just rather not be the one to find you after i lent you something.” he shoved the pencil in his pants pockets, leaving his hands in there. “that’s one of the last pencils i have.”

you shoot your eyebrows up in defense, quickly lowering them after. your eyes falling down to your desk for comfort.

“well, hope you take care of that one.” it was a half-joke. a lame one, might you add. you were just unsure on what to say. especially since it seemed like bakugou was lingering around your desk. as if he didn’t want to return to his seat just yet.

“so, what’d you score on your test?”

“ah…it wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t horrible.”

“well?” was he really desperate to know that bad? you knew bakugou was smart, so he probably only wanted to know so it could boost his ego.

you rubbed your arm out of shame. “a seventy-nine.” you stared at his face to recognize any humility or laughter, but there was none.

he shrugged. “should’ve asked for my help if you needed it.”

right. you almost forgot that bakugou offered to help you study and go over notes with him for the next test. it was such an out-of-bakugou thing to do that you nearly didn’t take him serious.

you nodded slowly, processing his information.

“i was planning on making it up, so maybe for that.”

“fine.” his short one-worded response was dull. but what else did you really expect? “next time, don’t steal my pencil.” was his last comment before leaving your presence.

you sat in your thoughts, reeling the conversation back in your mind. what the hell just happened? it was the most simple yet confusing conversation you’ve ever had. was bakugou joking with you or was he seriously irritated with the pencil situation?

regardless, you made a mental note that bakugou was very protective over his mechanical pencils.

once bakugou returned to his seat, he unzipped his backpack, secretly opening his pencil box. within the box were a collection of pencils. there were so many pencils that he could give one to all of class 1a and 1b and still have few left.

aside sat denki who was clearly peeking inside of bakugou’s bag.

“damn, bakubro. you saving up pencils for a potential pencil outage or something?” it’s denki. of course, he never used his inside voice.

“i will literally blow you out this fuckin’ window and across the lot.” bakugou turns his head immediately, a faint pink blush spreading across the apples of his cheek.

bakugou just didn’t want you to know that the pencil was obviously an excuse to talk to you.

[chatonfils]

Danny and Damian twin au. Except it’s Damian who ends up in Amity Park and Danny as Robin.

I want an absolutely feral gremlin Damian who is brought into vegetarianism by Sam. I want Damian and Tucker to think each other are incredibly obnoxious but begrudgingly get along and watch each other’s backs. I want a Damian who sighs and puts up with his friends antics and gets turned half ghost for his troubles. I want Jazz to psychoanalyze Damian out of bad coping mechanisms and into art and animal rights activism. I want Damian to hold a blade to Vlad’s neck and to threaten him within an inch of his life. I want him to use the resources of the ghost zone/infinite realms to check in on the twin he couldn’t stay with. *GHOST KING DAMIAN*

I want Danny to seem unassuming. I want the bat family to underestimate him. Danny’s greatest strength is that he comes back stronger with every punch thrown his way. I want him to only escalate in response to escalation. The bat family don’t know he’s just as likely to kill as he was in the league until he’s been put in a position where he feels it necessary to end his opponent. I want Danny to snark at Jason and to prank Tim. I want him to find comfort in Dick because sometimes Dick clenches his jaw (in anger) just like Damian, and Danny wishes they could have met.

I’ve never seen it swapped like that and I think it would be an interesting refresher in the sea of Damian Danny twin aus. Also I can’t decide if Damian would choose a way cooler hero name than Danny Phantom or if he would choose one way lamer. Know it all 14 year olds are kinda hard to pin down in that regard (I was one after all lmao). And maybe Danny doesn’t become Robin but another bird???? Who knows!!!! Possibilities are endless!!!

[jeons-catalyst]

Hello. I am a taekooker who doesn’t lurk in other ship spaces but through another taekook blog post, i came to know about the post you made about taekook’s dynamic where you said you don’t think taekook have a deep emotional connection. I really hope you don’t see this as me being confrontational because i just really would like to understand your POV more so do you mind explaining why you think taekook don’t have a very strong emotional connection?

https://www.tumblr.com/dearweirdme/753621383999782912/httpswwwtumblrcomstupendousfoxthing753542056

I also wanted to share this post from this taekook blog which i really agree with. Don’t you think perhaps your take on things is one sided?

Hi taekooker anon,

The truth is that there are certain things you and I would never agree on or see in the exact same way because we are rival shippers. I don’t expect taekookers to see sense in the opinions of jikookers the same way i’m sure taekookers don’t expect jikookers to, but instead of explaining to you again what i meant when i said i don’t think taekook have a very deep emotional connection, i will show you, using the post you sent me.

Let me preface by saying that, stating that taekook do not seem to have a very deep emotional connection in my opinion, doesn’t mean they don’t have an emotional connection at all. The kind of bond and friendship those two have with each other wouldn’t be possible unless they had an emotional connection. Tae wouldn’t have been able to pull Jk out of his shy shell and help him feel more relaxed and comfortable if trust which requires an emotional connection was lacking. Jk and Tae wouldn’t feel each other’s pain and try to be there for each other in good and bad moments if an emotional connection was lacking. All the members of bts have emotional connections with each other and that is why even us the fans can feel how much they all love each other but you and I know that all their relationships with each other don’t have the same depth. They all relate and connect to each other in very different ways with some being deeper than others for various reasons.

In our lives, we don’t have the same level of closeness to everyone we are close to. I personally am close to a bunch of people but i don’t have the same level of an emotional connection with all of them. I have some friends whom i bond with mostly through outdoor and fun activities, i have friends who i go to when i need to be vulnerable or have deep emotional talks with and i have friends who are kinda inbetween. The reason for this is because my dynamic with all my friends doesn’t allow for the same kind of things. My friend X is one of my oldest friends but we have never had the kind of dynamic where we could be vulnerable with each other. We just don’t relate to each other like that but we are still very close and still take very good care of each other but i wouldn’t be the first person they run to when they need emotional support and vice versa. We know where we connect most and we focus on that part of things. This is the same way it is in groups of friendships. You just don’t do the same things with everyone and physical closeness doesn’t always mean emotional closeness.

Now let’s see what the tk blogger said to counter my post.

“it is beyond stupid to think that Tae and Jk do not have meaningfull conversations. I'd even extend that to saying it is beyond stupid to think Jk and Tae don't know how to be together without having anything fun to do.”

First of all, no one said Tae and Jk don’t have meaningful conversations. They do have meaningful conversations…..sometimes but i have never gotten the impression that, that is the foundation of their friendship or that it is something they do often. Even people who don’t know the first thing about each other could still be able to have atleast one meaningful conversation so why wouldn’t taekook? The question here is when, where and how do they have those meaningful conversations? How often do they have those meaningful conversations?

We all watched ITS and we heard Tae mention that he hadn’t had a drink with Jk in a long time. Having drinks could mean having heart to heart talks because people often have meaningful and deep conversations over drinks and snacks. Jk also mentioned that he had been able to have a heart to heart talk with everyone else except Tae. Now, we know that prior to their talk in 2020, somethings had been a little weird with taekook by their own admission so they had not really been in that space to be vulnerable with each other. So from this we could deduce that, these two never lost the love, care and affection they had for each other but that deep connection just wasn’t there. On the surface, they could laugh with each other, play with each other and care for each other because they loved each other but that was about it. They didn’t go to each other with their issues or when they wanted someone to be vulnerable with. I remember during Festa 2020 when they were asked to write little notes to each other, Jk wrote to Tae telling him that he had noticed that Tae was alot quieter and he just wanted Tae to know that Tae could talk to any of the members whenever he needed to. This tells us that Tae didn’t confide in Jk even though it was obvious that he was going through something and Jk saying that Tae could confide in any of the members and not specifically him (Jk) suggests that Jk didn’t even expect Tae to come to him with his issues. Also, he wouldn’t have felt the need to write this down if he had been able to have the conversation with tae, you see what i am saying?

“ I'd even extend that to saying it is beyond stupid to think Jk and Tae don't know how to be together without having anything fun to do.”

Most times, my opinions on certain things come from my observations of the members actions, their words and maybe the words of other members around them as well as the things i see. I don’t think taekook feel the need to be around each other much if there isn’t a reason or something fun to do and this is why. (I didn’t say they can’t be around each other at all so please pay attention to my choice of words)

Let’s start from the beginning. When the members were rookies, everyone and their mama saw taekook as the closest pair because of their sweet, fun dynamic and how chaotic they usually were everytime saw them together. When we watched content from back then, we could see Taekook together alot, just goofing around or playing or being their usual partners in crime selves. Jk said Tae was his idiot friend and it was always fun when they were together. What happened after all the fun though?

This is from 2014. Here we hear Jimin and Jungkook telling us how them two always sleep outside their rooms together even though they had beds in the room. Looking at so many of Jimun and Jungkook’s tweets from back in the day, it is clear as hell that Jk and jimin liked spending all or most of their downtime together, especially alone. Sometimes there literally wasn’t even a reason for them to be together but they still were. Think of all those nights they stayed practicing together alone or those nights they were spending time in their hotel rooms with Tae saying he had to do a Live with Jk and Jimin but they were hanging out.

We had Namjoon telling us how Jk piled clothes on his bed to go sleep in Jimin’s bed.

We had Jk himself telling us that he spent most of his nights/downtime with Jimin doing things he doesn’t even know and someone could say this was because both Jimin and Jungkook had the same sleeping habit but then my question would be, if Jk didn’t mind being around Tae when they were doing nothing, then why didn’t he still stay by his side cuddling him or something if tae had already fallen asleep at night?

Taekookers like to reference chapter two or the solo era alot so let’s look at chapter two shall we.

In chapter two we know that taekook hung out quiet abit doing different fun stuff like going on a ski trip with friends, attending concerts, musicals, premieres or hanging at home with friends playing video games. But let’s look at these a little closer shall we?

Jk mentioned that when he went snowboarding with Tae and his friends, he really enjoyed snowboarding and thought they were going to do it again the next day but Tae and his friends probably had enough and left while Jk stayed there alone. It is first of all difficult to imagine a couple going on a ski trip with friends and one partner leaves the other all alone at a Ski resort and chooses to journey back home with friends because wouldn’t it make more sense to stay back with your partner so you both can finally have some alone time or just go back home together? But my point here is that, once one party had had their fill of the fun, they were ready to leave and left even though one person wasn’t done with the fun. See my point?

Let’s also look at taekook attending a Park Hyosin’s musical back in March last year. They met, hung out for a few hours and Jk went back home late at night, started a Live, sang for over an hour and even fell asleep on Live. Taekook went out for a reason and that was to attend a musical. After that musical was done what happened? They went their separate ways because there was nothing more to do. Jk coming to start a Live shows that he was clearly lonely and probably needed some company. If it was normal for taekook to be around each other while nothing fun was going on then why didn’t Jk just stay with Tae instead of coming seek company from fans online? Now one time could be a coincidence but this didn’t happen just once.

Taekook attended the dream premiere back in April last year. They attended this premiere and even had drinks after with Tae’s wooga and you would think that after drinks, they might just want to hang together maybe cuddling or something but Jk literally went back to his house even though Tae was literally passed out drunk, he went back and like clockwork, started a Live. He still look needed company so why didn’t he just stay with Tae?

On white day last years, Jk went Live for almost 5 hours. Everyone could see that there was something off about him as he even got emotional. Tae was in the country on white day unlike Jimin who had travelled to the US to promote his album. That was a couple holiday too which Jk acknowledged by speaking about it and even changing his clothes to white. Why wasn’t he spending that time with Tae who was in the country? Why did he have to come seek company and comfort from a bunch of fans online even though his “boyfriend” was right there?

Compare all of these to him going to Jimin’s room when he was lonely/bored. Jimin said Jungkook visited his room about 3 times a day, came in and stayed for about 4 hours at a time doing nothing. Just laying there. It’s not like Jk went there to play games with jimin or work on something or do any fun activity. He literally was just content laying there doing nothing.

Or how on the day their first BB # 1 was announced, jikook were casually together at 4am.

Or Jungkook going over to Jimin’s place after a concert, cooking for him, filming some content and both of them being seen the next day which was white day at a local restaurant with friends, with Jk wearing Jimin’s hat which heavily suggests that he probably spent the night there and they just went out to eat the next day.

Hell even before the last four members enlisted, we saw that taekook were on a facetime call at 8 am on Tae’s enlistment day from their separate houses which heavily suggests that they didn’t even spend any physical time together before being separated for 18 months and only caught up via a facetime call.

“You'll notice they don't really know Tae well, going for the 'fun, weird, quirky' description of him.. going along with BH's narative of Tae basically being pretty but not having much depth or brains (ugh). While it's refreshing to see a jkkr not directly dismissing their bond, it's still such a faulty take. What do you mean Tae and JK don't have a deep emotional connection? Is it really logical to think Tae and Jk search each other for comfort, spend time together both in and out of public, spend time together both alone and with other people present, share their musical projects, mention each other constantly, look worried or proud or happy (any type of emotion) when something happens with the other, cry together, etc... but they do not have a deep emotional connection? "

This part was kinda funny to me because it seems like i know Tae better than most taekookers or i listen to him better. Another thing that was funny was them talking about BH narrative of tae being quirky, weird and fun. How do you claim to know Tae and you don’t even know that be used to be all of these things? That wasn’t BH narrative of him, that was/is him. I have noticed many Tae stans having an issue with Tae being described as this but do you love him if you don’t accept him for who he is ? He is all these things but he is also deep and certainly has brains. When he was younger, we only saw the quirky, fun and weird side of him but as he got older and matured, we saw more of his depth and intelligence and uniqueness. Jk himself has referred to Tae as a genius and has mentioned tae having deeper thoughts than we might realize, so that isn’t news.

People spending time together, sharing projects with each other, caring about each other is indicative of love, care and an emotional connection but not necessarily a deep one because all these things the blogger mentioned aren’t things that are exclusive to taekook but i’m sure she wouldn’t say all the members have the same depth of emotional connections would she? These are things Jk even does with his 97 liner friends but i’m not sure the all share the same level of emotional connection with each other. These are things friends do but not necessarily friends who share the deepest emotional connection which is my point. Jk has shared songs first with Namjoon and Suga, Tae has shared songs and albums first with Jimin and Hobi. Tae has cried with Jimin, cried with Hobi, cried with Jin. All these are indicative of a friendship.

She lost me at “Tae and Jk search each other for comfort” because this isn’t something i have ever noticed. I have seen tae and Jk providing comfort to each other but i haven’t seen them actively searching for it from each other. They also haven’t mentioned it either. Tae has spoken about being thankful to Jk who sometimes listens to his worries and advises on what to do. He has also spoken about crying together with Jk and Hobi back in 2018 when they were having a hard time but again, these are things all the members have done. The members have all spoken about crying together and being a comfort to each other in those trying times but if we have to nitpick, there is nothing really indicating that taekook seek each other out for comfort. They both tend to seek Jimin out and i am not just saying this.

This is Tae talking about how he wasn’t keen on letting his stress show or confiding in others but the first time he did, it was to Jimin. He let himself be vulnerable for the first time with Jimin and not Jk.

This is Tae saying that he goes to Jimin for advice when he has worries.

This is Tae specifically thanking JIMIN, friends and members for worrying about him when he was having a hard time

I’m sure we all remember when Tae wrote this letter to Jimin thanking him for being the one who cried and laughed with him and was always there for him.

If Taekook sought each other our for comfort, why didn’t Tae go immediately to Jk when he had a nightmare? We all know that in moments of fear, pain and other unpleasant emotions, we immediately seek out those we feel safest around. Tae literally got up from a nightmare and immediately went to Jimin instead of Jk. What does this tell you?

Or during this moment from BV when Tae was crying and the staff immediately went to get Jimin. Why didn’t they go get Jk, if that was who Tae sought out when he needed comfort?

I always say tkkrs problem is that they don’t listen to the people they claim to stan. Tae isn’t one of my biases but i pay attention to everyone he says and does. This is Tae saying that he likes Jimin best. Hell, Jimin even knew the letter was for him before it got to him. This also reminds me of how all the members were shocked when Jk pranked Tae like his letter was for him. Tae himself was shocked but jimin knew that Tae’s letter was coming to him.

Even on the day when they got to their first BB # 1, when Tae wanted someone to come sleep by his side, he asked for Jimin not Jungkook. Why?

These are all moments over the years that prove without a doubt that Tae has always sought jimin out. Not only do we see it, he literally said it. The first member he allowed himself to be vulnerable with was Jimin. So when tkkrs say Tae seeks Jk out for comfort, what exactly do they mean?

For Jk, it is clear that the one member he constantly seeks out for comfort is Jimin.

In 2013, Jk was asked at a radio interview which hyung gave him the best comfort and attention and without hesitation, he said Jimin. Things like this go to further prove my point of taekook not having a very deep emotional connection because back then, everyone saw how physically close taekook were as they were glued at the hip with Jk always following Tae around so anyone would expect him to pick Tae since that is who he seemed closer to of the two, but even in this case, he picked Jimin whom he had known for the shortest period of time out of all members.

Jimin was the last member to join the group which means that others had, had years and months to form bonds with each other before he arrived. We all know that in 2012 Jk travelled to the US for a month to strengthen his dance skills and mind you that was barely a few months after Jimin arrived but Jimin was the one whom he confided in when he had thoughts about quitting singing to become a dancer and Jimin tried convincing him on their way home from the practice room over ice cream. Mind you Jk had already formed bonds with the other members but in this moment the one he confided in was the one he has known for the least amount of time. This proves that jikook’s bond was built on a foundation of a deeper level of trust. One where they could be open to each other and valued each other’s opinions. Jungkook hadn’t known Jimin long but he already felt comfortable enough to seek out Jimin’s opinion on something as important as his career. Why didn’t he talk to Taehyung about this? Why Jimin?

Or when Jungkook was asked how he was able to overcome the harsh and intense trainee life and he he said Jimin was there for him and listened to his worries. When he said Jimin motivated him the most.

Jk said out of all members, Jimin knew him best.

Out of all members he felt his heart connected most to Jimin.

We have this moment when Jk felt bad about messing up his performance and even though there was enough space between Jimin and Tae where he could sit, he went and squeezed himself in the small space close to Jimin. Why didn’t he seek Tae out when he needed to be comforted?

There is no moment that speaks more about how deeply connected jikook are than this. You can literally see the way Jk breaks down and lets the tears freely flow the moment he turns around and sees Jimin already looking at him. This is what is means to be vulnerable, to let your guard down around someone you trust and have a deep emotional connection with. I had made a post about thid on my previous account and likened this moment to when a child falls and holds their tears in but the moment the see someone they trust like a parent looking at them with concern after the fall, the completely let it rip. Here jk was emotional and was trying his hardest to keep in it but the moment he turns around and sees Jimin smiling at him, he breaks down completely. I have never seen Jungkook like this with anyone else

This is a compilation of moments where Jungkook actively sought out Jimin when he wasn’t ok and needed comfort

Even after the rainy day fight, when Jungkook was lost, why didn’t he seek Tae out? He was lost, angry, sad and all the unpleasant emotions you could think about but in that one moment all he wanted was Jimin. What does this tell you?

Jungkook gets bored and lonely and immediately seeks Jimin out, out of every one else.

For Jimin, we all know how many times Jimin has spoken about feeling safe with Jungkook. Asking him to grow up and protect him lol.

When Jimin was asked whom he would like to travel with, he said Jungkook and the reason for this was that Jungkook was going to protect him. He wouldn’t say stuff like this if he didn’t already feel protected by jungkook ( not that he really needed the protection)

And then here he picked Jungkook to go to a deserted island with. It’s not so much that he picked Jungkook but why he did. He picked him because that is where and who he felt comfortable with.

Compare this to Tae also choosing to take Jungkook but not necessarily because that is who he felt most comfortable with or safe with but because Jungkook is good at doing many things and Jk would do it if he asked. The reasons always make the difference. With one it is more about Jungkook’s physical abilities while with the other it is about how being with Jungkook makes him feel, which is protected and comfortable.

This is another moment that tugs at my heartstrings alot and tells me just how much these two get each other. Jimin was obviously really nervous but in that state, he kept his eyes on Jungkook who also kept his eyes on him and nodded to encourage Jimin that he was doing ok. It honestly doesn’t get deeper than this. Without any words uttered, Jimin knew that he could depend on Jungkook and Jungkook knew what Jimin needed most at that time and turned his body to him, nodding as he went on. This ladies and gentlemen is what i am talking about.

There are so many other moments like this when the members are giving their ending ment after concerts and you see jikook turning to each other when talking. It happens almost all the time. Jungkook has hid entire body turned to Jimin and keeps looking at him while talking and Jimin does the same thing. It almost feels like looking at each other gives them a sense of courage and security in tense circumstances.

This one is abit risque but you get the point

This one.

This one. Jungkook strugging to be beside jimin while he gives his speech with jimin looking at him

This one

This one. Jk immediately turning his entire body to jimin while he talks

This one

I could only find these few but there is tons and tons and tons of moments like this.

“If you want to speak about the difference between Jkk and Tkk you have to have an understanding of all members concerned. Only giving your point of view from Jk's side is a very narrowed take on things”

I have given my point of view from all the involved members sides as we can see above so i don’t get accused of having a one sided faulty take. As we can see from everything stated above, Jk, Tae and Jimin all made it extremely clear on so many occasions who they sought out for comfort and their own words and actions hold more weight than some random person’s perception things.

“I think a very fun and interesting watch is vminkook videos, because through those you can spot how the relationships between those three actually work. Think of Tae and Jk at the first Harry Styles show, think of the three of them at Yoongi's show (leaving Jm behind for crying out loud), think of the vminkook live and Jm's reaction to the stare, think of the many times Tae was having a reaction about Jm and Jk and even acting out a certain possesiveness towards Jk.. a possesiveness that Jm accepts and a possesiveness that neither Jk or Jm act out on when it comes to each other.”

When this blogger mentioned Harry Styles concert, i felt vindicated lol. She is literally making my point for me. What did i say in my other post?

“ I think they those types of friends who always need a reason to hang out and hanging out is probably more fun for them with other people around. I don’t see Jk just going to sit in Taehyung’s room for hours doing nothing. I see Taekook spending hours, even days together when they have something to keep them occupied. That thing gets taken away and they don’t feel the need to be around each other much.”

This is from the other post i made. This blogger has mentioned the HS concert in LA as one of the ways you can tell the difference in vminkook’s dynamics but like a typical taekooker, they never pay attention to anything these boys say. Do we remember that the HS concert was during the exact same period when the members were in LA for PTD and we learned from Jimin and Jungkook that they worked out everyday together, ate together and Jk pretty much spent all his time in Jimin’s room? We all saw how glued taekook were at the concert, having the fun of their lives, holding each other and singing along to songs, it was adorable but remind me again who during that exact same period, Jk chose to go spend time with when he was lonely or bored? It wasn’t Tae who was had all the fun with at the concert but Jimin who tkkrs claimed he ignored. You see my point? Taekook were glued at the concert where they had something fun that they both enjoyed, to bond over but the moment that particular fun stopped, Jk didn’t feel the need to go to Tae when he was lonely or bored. He said he went to jimin so often because his room was closest but let’s be honest. Would it hv killed him to take 10 more steps to the next menber’s room? Also, it gets all the more interesting when you remember that he went there and according to Jimin, did nothing but lay down for about 4 hours at a time. Why didn’t he go to tae in moments like that? Why did he go to Jimin even though he literally wasn’t doing anything in there? With the way tk were at the concert, you would expect that the one jk would seek out in loneliness would be Tae but it wasn’t. Also what does it speak about Taekook if Tae thought jimin’s room was Jk’s? Thanks for making my point i guess.

On a serious note, can anyone show me moments when we know for sure that taekook chose to be together without a reason like them hanging out or doing something fun? Just one moment when we see or hear of them just casually spending extended periods of time, just because. I’ll wait.

Let’s not even talk about “leaving people behind”because that could get messy. Taekook came together to a concert and left the same way they came and let’s not pretend we don’t know taekook came together because they don’t live too far from each other. Besides they were just driving a few minutes back to their houses and not leaving to never see each other again. This will never compare to Tae leaving Jk all alone at a Ski resort and choosing to journey back home with friends.

I wouldn’t even talk about the so called possessiveness because this is stupid on so many levels. It is beyond funny to see someone claim possessiveness as proof of romance when we all know that feelings like jealousy and possessiveness are not exclusive to romantic relationships.Friends do get possessive over each other and nothing screams more possessiveness than Jk literally not letting Jimin go help tae out on his Live but that is a topic for another day. Also, tkkrs once again proving they are the ones who really don’t know Tae. They will see Tae was his RBF and swear he feels some type of way about Jikook’s interactions when my man has probably just zoned out. What sends me is when i see tkkrs claiming that Tae was jealous beyof jikook’s on stage interactions but you turn around and see the same Tae flirting up a storm with Jin. Or how tkkrs will swear that taekook are dating because Jk ate a particule of food that fell from the chopsticks when he tried feeding tae but you turn around and see Tae doing this💀

“You also have to understand that Jk and Jm are being placed in offical content way more than Jk and Tae are.. ofcourse you're going to get more Jkk moments to refer to. "

I swear it wouldn’t be a taekooker if they don’t whip out the company narrative. Do tkkrs really think anyone ships Jikook because of how much they are seen together in content? Which jikooker has ever said “i ship Jikook because they are together alor in content”? Tkkrs wouldn’t have a way to explain jikook away if they don’t run with the company narrative. Jikook were seen together in content because they were together ALOT! We have words from jikook themselves, other members and staff which literally confirms this. We are in the big year of 2024 and people are still going on about people being cut from official content? Ok i’ll bite. Let’s ignore the moments bighit gave us and focus on things we know from the members themselves or from things we saw which were not from content.

Jikook were the ones who told us they spent most nights together.

We don’t know about Jikook spending birthdays and Holidays together from the company but from them.

We have so many moments of them being sighted by people on the streets.

Tae was the one who told us that jikook were together alone at night twice.

Hobi was the one who said Jimin and Jungkook always stay up together

Hobi and Namjoon are the ones who told us that jimin likes taking jungkook places.

Jikook were the ones who told us they eat together alot and Hobi confirmed the story.

Was it the company who told us that Jk liked being in any room Jimin was in?

Jk shared a room with Tae for crying out loud but he still went to sleep in Jimin and Hobi’s room everynight.

It wasn’t the company that told us that Jikook we’re together on white day.

It wasn’t the company that showed us that Tae doesn’t go see Jk on his birthdays. Jk literally mentioned that on one of his Lives in the same chapter two which taekookers claim taekook were joined at the hip. And speaking of birthdays, we have literally heard Jk say that he thinks birthdays should be spent with close people but we know of about 3 different times when Taekook werent together on birthdays. How on earth do you go on believing that people are in a romantic relationship when they do not care much to see each other on a day that one of them thinks should be spent with loved ones and family? Tae will literally make sure he is there for Wooshik’s birthday but doesn’t go to see Jk on his?

Was it the company that told us that during an entire 6 week break Taekook didn’t see each other and Jk only saw Jimin and Hobi?

Was it the company that asked Jk to tell us that his mom made seaweed soup because it was Jimin’s birthday?

Was it the company that asked Jk to take Jimin to Tokyo?

Was it the company that asked Jk to only give Jimin a gift?

Hell, was it the company that asked Jk to stay in the dorm with Jimin and only moved out when he did and not when Tae did?

Was it the company that asked Jk to start a Live to watch Jimin and support him for almost 2 hours?

All these are moments that we know from the members themselves or from sightings. So which one is, “the company places jkk more in official content that tkk”? It’s not even about the company placing jikook more because if taekook were always together as some of you claim, then we would see alot of vminkook no? Did the company refuse to take footage of Tae all those times we saw jikook being the only two to stay back and watch each other practice? If tae was around jungkook alot wouldn’t we have seen him with them? We didn’t see him because he wasn’t there. Or those moments when Jk was sick in burn the stage and Jimin didn’t leave his side. Wouldn’t we have seen Tae there if he was around much the same way we saw Jin being around Jk much? Tkkrs have run with this narrative for so long even though it is obvious that the reason there was not as much taekook in official content was because those two just weren’t together as much as jikook were.

We all saw a drastic uptick in taekook moments after their ITS talk and i have seen taekookers even commenting on how much taekook content they got within the past few years, with some claiming that bighit now trusts taekook not to mess up on official content, or they had re negotiated the terms of their contract to allow for them to be shown more🙄. Let’s be serious please.

There is so many things that have happened over the years consistently that have proven beyond measure that there is no way in hell taekook are in a romantic relationship but every single time these moments are brought up, tkkrs blame the company, call taekook liars or make up the most ridiculous excuses. Cuz what do you mean your excuse to why Taekook don’t spend any birthdays or holidays together is that they have mentioned that they don’t care about birthdays or couple days? So jk doesn’t care yet he spends those days with Jimin and celebrates with other members like Hobi and Jin who ho to visit him? Tae doesn’t care abt birthdays yet he makes sure not to miss those of his wooga squad members? Let stop blaming the company for things they had no control over.

“That account wants t be objective and base their thoughts on what is being fed to them in official content. Sure, if you don't mind buying into what the company wants you to think, that is a great way to go. When we are speaking of two closeted bandmembers though.. it is not a failproof way to go. They are basing their thought on edited footage, without giving it a second thought.”

I am not basing my thoughts on what i am being fed in official content. I am basing my thoughts on the words and actions of the members, which i have gotten to see through official content and out of it ( as we all) and i have shown above the things they have said and done themselves. So unless you want to claim that we cannot believe anything the members themselves say or do, in which case everything you believe in too will be null and void because we get information from the same place, then i don’t see how someone could claim that i am basing my claims on what i am being fed by the company.

Resorting to blaming the company for not getting moments of your ship is how you know you are wrong as hell. It is even more ridiculous to reduce these boys to puppets with no autonomy or agency all in a bid to make sense of your ship. What i find ironic abt tkkrs is that, y’all claim to know tae and Jk so well yet you don’t know that these two are the most stubborn members of the group. On one hand you are claiming that Tae is someone with intergrity who values truth and wants to live in his truth and doesn’t condone nonsense but on the other hand, you are implying that he is a liar or someone who has no qualms misleading or lying to his fans and someone who has let the company maltreat him for years. One moment you claim Jk is tough for drinking on Live and falling asleep there knowing damn well the company doesn’t want him to but the next moment you are indirectly calling him a puppet or someone who doesn’t have a brain of their own. Common!

The edited footage they are talking about, is it the same footage from bighit which we all consume because i’m pretty sure if i go on any taekook pages, i will see that same “edited footage” which you celebrate and base your thoughts on.

This is was incredibly lengthy but i hope i have shown you my POV tkkr anon💜

[azzibuckets]

this isn’t the end or anything [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: paige and azzi are just dumb high school kids who don’t know what to do with this new feeling called love

a/n: i’ve missed writing angst 🙂‍↔️ i used prompts from this post

word count: 2.1k

masterlist

“You love me.”

Azzi stills from packing Paige’s duffel bag. Her best friend’s words seem to paralyze every bone in her body - except for her fingers, which are now trembling.

“You love me.”

Azzi forces herself to resume her actions. To finish folding the bright EYBL tie dye sweater and stuff it into the corner of the bag, taking up the last remaining space. She forces herself to slowly zip up the duffel, to slow the racing of her heart and quiet the panic looming in her mind. Nonchalant. Unbothered. Calm.

Paige sits down next to her. She doesn’t make eye contact with Azzi - instead, Azzi follows her best friend’s gaze to her own knees. Azzi’s fingers are resting on her thighs, but they twitch with the yearning to fall back into the habit of absent mindedly tracing her scars. But she doesn’t. She wonders if Paige will lean over and do it for her. Or if, like so many times before, Paige will let her lips touch the lines embedded into her skin, reminding Azzi, without even having to say a word, of how strong she is. But she doesn’t.

“I heard what you told Taylor.”

Azzi stiffens. Her conversation with Taylor had been brief. But in those few minutes, she’d admitted so many things - things she hadn’t even been able to admit to herself up until that very moment.

“What did you hear?”

Paige looks up at Azzi now. Her eyes are a startling blue, but what’s more unsettling is the uncertainty swimming in her pupils. Azzi is used to every expression on Paige’s face. As Paige’s best friend, she’s supported her through sad times, when she’s upset after a bad game. Or whenever Paige is angry, annoyed from her family and desperately seeking solace in Azzi. Azzi is familiar with Paige’s expressions of hurt, and embarrasment, of jealousy, and of joy and of humor. But this apprehension, this doubt that’s clouding her face? This is Azzi’s first time, because Paige has always been poised, radiating confidence on the court while she leads her teammates and off the court with her bursting personality.

“I heard you say you liked me. More than a….” Paige trails off, and she shifts, and for a moment Azzi expects her to come closer, like she always does, for Paige’s hands to snake across her waist and eventually wander across less appropriate parts of her body. But Paige shifts away, creating distance between the two of them, and in that second Azzi finds it hard to breathe. “You should’ve told me.”

“Why would I have told you?” Azzi’s voice is hard, and she’s never spoken like this to Paige, but right now she needs to, she needs to keep her walls up, because she knows that this conversation isn’t going well, and that one of them, if not both, will leave feeling hurt.

“So I would’ve stopped.”

Azzi’s lungs are on fire.

“I wouldn’t have kept…” It’s like Paige refuses to address it, refuses to say out loud the things that they’ve done. Like it’s a sin.

“Kept doing what?” Azzi says defiantly, her voice rising. “Kissing me?” She hates the way Paige winces. “Touching me?” Paige looks away. “Fucking me?”

“Stop,” Paige says weakly.

“I know you like me too.” Azzi’s voice is quiet now, and she waits for a reaction.

“I don’t.” Paige’s voice is unconvincing, and Azzi sees right through Paige. She’s memorized her tells long ago. The way Paige has trouble maintaining eye contact with the person she’s lying to, so her eyes will momentarily flicker somewhere else. The way her lips will go taut as she tries to keep a stony face. These changes are minuscule, easy to miss to everyone else, but for Azzi nothing on Paige’s beautiful face ever been easy to miss.

“It would just be too hard, wouldn’t it?” Azzi’s voice is even quieter now, and Paige has to strain her ears, because she refuses to get physically closer to Azzi, not when it’s like this. “My brothers are yours. We’re going to be teammates. And we’re best friends.”

“Girls!” Katie’s voice pierces the agonizing silence between the two of them. “We’ve gotta go.”

Ever since Azzi tore her ACL, Paige has carried Azzi’s luggage for her. Even when Azzi started healing and stopped using crutches, Paige insisted. This time is no different….or so it seems until she reaches for Azzi’s bag but her hand gets slapped away.

Paige purses her lips. “Azzi. You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“I’ve been doing rehab for months. I’m fine.” Azzi grabs her own duffel and takes an unsteady step.

Paige reaches for the bag again when Azzi wavers, but Azzi dodges her grasp. “Oh my god, Az, stop being difficult and just let me help you.”

“I don’t need you.” Azzi didn’t mean to snap, for her voice to come out like that. But it does, and hurt flashes in Paige’s eyes.

Azzi limps all the way down the stairs and into the garage. She’s sweating by the time she reaches the car, heaving her duffel into the trunk and taking a moment to catch her breath as she leans against the cool metal. She ignores Paige’s stare when she slowly climbs into the back seat.

“Where’s your compression wrap?” Paige questions.

Azzi closes her eyes. “I got the elastic bandages.”

“But your compression wrap is way more comfortable.”

Azzi rubs her knee. “I couldn’t find it.”

Paige looks at her for a second before opening the door. Heading for the house, she jogs past Tim and Katie as they shut the trunk. “Hey, where you going?” Tim calls. “We’re really on a time crunch.”

“Just one second!”

Paige shows up five minutes later, gasping for air as she folds herself inside the car again and shuts the door.

“Come on, Paige,” Katie chastises. “You should’ve been ready to go when we told you.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Paige says apologetically.

The car starts moving, and Tim and Katie fall into a murmured conversation. Azzi allows herself to glance over at Paige, who gives her a small, unsure smile before nodding at her lap. Azzi looks down, and there it is. Her black compression wrap, looking a little bit worse for wear, but it’s there.

“Thanks.” Azzi takes the wrap and doesn’t say anything else, but they fall into an unspoken peace treaty, an agreement to ignore the words said before and just be. And later, when Paige is shifting around, trying to find a comfortable spot leaning against the window so that her neck will stop aching, Azzi, with her face still buried in her pillow, taps her foot against Paige’s. Paige breathes out a silent sigh of relief, letting her head fall into Azzi’s lap. They’re okay, she thinks before falling into sleep.

••••••••••••••••••••

“I saw you kissing him.”

“So?” Azzi crosses her arms. She knows that if she doesn’t, her hands will automatically reach for Paige, and she can’t have that. So she makes sure they stay tucked.

“You were literally just kissing me last night.” Paige’s eyes flash. “You can’t go around kissing two people at once.”

“Why does it even matter to you?” Azzi scoffs. “You said you don’t like me. You have no say in who I involve myself with.”

Paige knows Azzi is right. That she can’t have her cake and eat it. But she can’t ignore the nasty feeling that crawled into her stomach when she saw that guy press his lips against Azzi’s, holding her waist too tightly, pressing his body roughly against her, totally incompatible with Azzi’s gentleness.

“This is so fucked up.” Paige stands up, and she starts pacing. “Everything between us was fine until you decided to bring feelings into it.”

“Do you know how unfair you’re being?” Azzi pushes Paige, hard enough to send her stumbling back a little bit. “I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay? But it happened and I can’t do shit about it.”

“You…what?”

Azzi realizes too late what she’s done. And Azzi is not a crier by any means, but suddenly she finds tears flowing down her face, her cheeks wet with exhaustion and sadness and longing. She wipes angrily at her tears, cursing herself for showing too much emotion.

“Azzi, what?” Paige repeats, stepping closer to the younger girl.

“Didn’t you know?” Azzi spat, clearly referencing their conversation from the week before.

“I-,” Paige’s mind is running at a million miles per hour. “I know you love me. But you’re in love with me?”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you kiss someone until they can’t breathe and hold them to sleep every night,” Azzi says, sarcasm dripping from her words. “You know, if I could, I’d lose feelings for you. But it’s not that easy. It’s not that easy to just let go of someone you’ve held onto for so fucking long.”

Paige Bueckers knows a lot of things. She knows how to cut through three defenders to score a layup. She knows how to create space for a shooting opportunity when coming off screens and handoffs. She knows how to facilitate, to create opportunities for her teammates to excel. She’s a genius in basketball, a generational talent like no other.

But with this? Paige is utterly clueless. She wishes she was on the court. She knows how to think when the ball in her hand and her sneakers are squeaking against the floor. But this is so far from the world of basketball.

“We can’t.” Paige knows it’s a bad response, even before Azzi’s eyebrows furrow and the corner of her pretty mouth dips. “It’ll make everything…” Paige searches for the word. “Weird?”

Azzi sniffs.

“Come on, Az.” Paige’s voice is gentle. “We both know how relationships work. Couples always break up, especially when they’re as young as us. I don’t want that to happen to us.”

“So you don’t trust in me at all? In us?”

“That’s not what I’m saying. I’d rather keep things as is instead of complicating everything. If we date and things go wrong, I don’t want to lose you. I can’t.” Paige can’t imagine a world without Azzi. Their nightly Facetimes, their hours of texting, their future at UConn - she needs all of it like she needs oxygen to breathe, and she’d rather suffer seeing Azzi with someone else than risk the chance of that being gone.

“Maybe we should take some space.” Paige looks at her hands. “So we can have the time to figure out our own feelings.”

“Is that what you want?” No. Paige doesn’t want this. What Paige wants is to have the courage to take those three steps. To gather Azzi in her arms and get tangled in her limbs. Paige wants to make Azzi laugh again. To keep saying stupid jokes until Azzi’s dimple shows, until she rolls her eyes and shakes her head. Paige just wants to love Azzi. But she can’t. “Yes,” Paige answers, and when she closes her eyes a tear slips out. “That’s what I want.”

“Okay.” Azzi stands up with finality.

“This isn’t the end or anything,” Paige says desperately. “We can still talk and everything. But let’s just, um, hold off on all the other things.”

Azzi stiffens. “That’s the thing, Paige. I can’t be around you and not feel this way.”

Paige feels like the world is crashing down around her. She feels like she’s falling, falling, falling, with no one to save her. Her heart pounds in her chest, angry and scathing. “What do you mean?” she whispers, hoping Azzi won’t say what she thinks she’s about to say.

“I think we should stop seeing each other at all.” Azzi rubs her eyes. “Just until I can stop feeling this way.” Her hands fall to her chest. “It just hurts too fucking bad.”

“Okay,” Paige says, but nothing is okay. Nothing is okay because this is everything she was trying to prevent, but now she can’t stop it from happening and now her whole life is completely upside down. So Paige turns around, because she can’t stand to see Azzi leave. To see Azzi turn her back and just walk away. She hears Azzi’s steps as they grow closer, smells Azzi’s familiar lilac perfume when she leans down, feels Azzi’s hand on her shoulder, can even taste the memory of Azzi’s lips on her tongue. But then, all too quickly, her hand slips away, and her touch is gone, and so is Azzi, and the door shuts.

And finally, finally, Paige allows herself to cry.

[zaczenemiji]

Hi there! It's me...again. Hope your doing okay.

I was thinking about a new request about Kenji Sato x Fem! Reader based on the song "Please, Please, Please" from Sabrina Carpenter. Reader is a singer just like her so and has a relationship with Ken but she thinks that some things aren't doing good, but she also has him wrapped around her finger. Like the part with "I beg you, don't embarrass me, mother******". It can be angst but also fluffy and spice (Only if you want to but no smut) It can end in a happy ending.

The rest is up to you because I know you'll do a great job. No need to rush so take your time.

Don’t Prove Them Right

Kenji Sato x Reader

Word Count: 1,358

Author’s Note: I went with a bit of angst 🤧

MASTERLIST

“You could do better.”

This was one thing you’ve always heard since you started dating men as a singer. Throughout your career, you were either cheated on, abandoned, or used in a way that they just rode your fame.

Other times, fans would ship you with another singer or celebrity or whoever famous and you’d give it a try for them but the ending is the always same: you two were just pretending for public entertainment and there was never love at all.

Your perception of love blurred the longer you got in the singing industry. You sang about it, wrote songs about it, but you’ve never really experienced it for a significant amount of time or for a significant depth.

That was until you met Kenji.

Despite his fame, he seemed down-to-earth and genuinely interested in getting to know you. He took you to his baseball games and introduced you to his teammates. In return, you invited him to your recording sessions.

Kenji was always supportive, and always encouraging. He seemed genuinely proud of your achievements and was always there for you. Despite his busy schedule, he shows up at your gigs and concerts and cheers you on from the front row.

He had a way of making you feel special like you were the most important person in his world. It was easy to overlook the occasional outbursts, the moments of impulsiveness that seemed to come with his fiery temperament.

You told yourself that everyone had flaws, and Kenji's good qualities far outweighed his bad ones.

You believed in him and in the future you could build together. Despite the red lights and the stop signs, you held on to the belief that this time, this love was right.

But as time went on, the cracks in Kenji's facade began to show. His temper flared more frequently, and his impulsive decisions started to take a toll on your relationship.

You made excuses for him and justified his actions to your friends and family. You told them he’s different.

But they told you that with the way he’s behaving, you’ll just end up in the dumps again—that he’s going to cheat on you, hurt you, leave you, and the ending will be the same…

“You could do better.”

Heartbreak is one thing, but your ego is another. You couldn’t afford your name dominating the headlines again. And for what reason? Another breakup.

You loved him deeply, but the constant cycle of highs and lows was exhausting. You wanted to believe that he could change, that he could be the man you fell in love with.

But the more you tried to fix things, the more you realized that some things were beyond your control.

You sat in front of your vanity doing your makeup nicely. You glanced at the clock. Kenji would be here any minute to pick you up now. Tonight is your big night. It’s an afterparty to celebrate the release of your new single.

Your boyfriend had a reputation for causing a scene. It wasn't entirely his fault—he was passionate but it sometimes translated into impulsiveness. Tonight, of all nights, you needed him to be on his best behavior.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Kenji stood there, looking dashing in a tailored suit, a grin spreading across his face as he saw you.

"Wow, you look stunning," he said, pulling you in for a quick kiss.

"Thanks," you replied, forcing a smile. "You sure you wanna come?"

"Of course," he replied with a confidence that both reassured and worried you. “I’m always here for you.”

You arrived at the venue in no time. Celebrities, reporters, and fans filled the room, all eager to celebrate your success. You and Kenji mingled with the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and accepting congratulations.

But as the night went on, Kenji's behavior started to shift. The drinks were flowing, and while you had stuck to soda water, Kenji had not.

You watched with growing anxiety as he laughed a little too loudly, and gestured a little too wildly. The conversations around you started to feel like a backdrop to a ticking time bomb.

You pulled him aside. "Kenji, please," you whispered urgently. "Just... take it easy, okay?"

He frowned, a mix of confusion and irritation crossing his features. "What? I'm just having a good time."

"I know," you said, forcing another smile. “Just... for me, okay?"

He sighed but nodded and for a while, it seemed like he was keeping his promise. He stuck by your side, an arm around your waist, engaging in polite conversation with your friends and family.

However, you left him one moment and then the next, he was talking to one of the reporters. The latter walked away, a smirk on his face. Kenji turned to you, his face flushed with anger.

"Can you believe that guy?" he spat. "He had the nerve to ask about the last game. Said I sucked."

"Kenji," you said softly, trying to calm him down. You placed your hand on his chest. "It's not worth it."

"But-"

"Please, Kenji. Just... let it go."

He looked at you, the anger in his eyes slowly fading. He took a deep breath and nodded. "For you," he said quietly.

But the reprieve was short-lived. You caught sight of him at the bar, raising his voice at someone who had apparently made a snide comment.

The situation escalated quickly, and before you knew it, Kenji had thrown a punch, causing a commotion that drew everyone's attention.

Your heart sank as security rushed in to break up the fight. You could feel all eyes on you, whispers spreading through the crowd.

You felt a sense of dejà vu as this wasn't the first time Kenji let his emotions get the best of him, and you were able to hold it together as you’ve always done, but then you heard the one thing you hated.

“She could’ve done better.”

Without a word, you grabbed your things and stormed out of the venue, the tears you had been holding back finally spilling over.

Not long after, Kenji arrived at your house, disheveled and remorseful. "(Y/n), I'm so sorry," he began, reaching out to you. "I didn't mean to ruin everything."

You stepped back, keeping a distance between you. "Kenji, this can't keep happening. You promised me you would behave tonight!” You said in between sobs. “This was supposed to be my night, and you turned it into a disaster.”

You sat on your couch, your legs feeling too tired to keep you up. "I can't keep making excuses for you,” you continued. “I can't keep sacrificing my career for your mistakes."

Kenji fell silent, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He’s scared. He knew what those words meant. At that moment, he felt like the sky was crashing on him.

"I don't want to lose you, (y/n)," he said quietly, tears falling down. "I love you, and I know I've been screwing up. But I'm willing to do everything to make things right. Therapy, anger management, whatever it takes."

You stared at him, your heart aching with a mix of love and doubt. "Kenji, this isn't just about tonight,” you said. “This has been happening for a while now.“

“Please, (y/n),” he begged, his voice trembling as he knelt in front of you, embracing your legs as he rested his head on your lap. “I want to be the man you deserve. Please, give me one more chance."

Over the next few weeks, Kenji followed through on his promise. He made genuine efforts to address his issues.

He went out of his way to apologize to your friends and family for his behavior at the party, taking full responsibility for his actions.

Slowly but surely, he’s coming back to being the man you fell in love with. He made sure you wouldn’t be the one doing better because he was becoming better himself.

One afternoon, you had lunch with your friends. They asked about how things are now going between you and Kenji. You gave them a smile, a genuine one since after the party.

“He became better.”

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@flowerloves @eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie @wattpadsuckssohard @sakura-onesan @reggies-eyeliner @buggs-1 @miffysoo @spencerrxids @stupidbutsmart @marimargirlies @mixvchelle

[erosiism]

GAP MOE | YANDERE IMAGINES

prompt: in which the reader is isekai’d to a novel where he’s supposed to be cannon fodder, but his supposed murderous husband is sweet, doting, and loving. the worst case of gap moe.

character(s): duke (altair), you

warnings(s): none [except the chance that i might have used the term wrongly lol still an enjoyable read, i promise]

note(s): male reader, second person, present tense, not beta read, will probably have a part two

other(s): alternative title: help, i got transmigrated as cannon fodder and now i am the murderous duke’s husband | meaning of gap moe: affection born of inconsistency between different aspects of the character

So, you’ve been isekai’d to a novel. A novel where the Grand Duke is supposed to kill you. He hits every cliche: Altair Ornaria is red eyed, black haired, and he has the smoldering, sharp kind of beauty that you only see in Dukes. The Northern Duke, to be exact.

The situation isn’t looking good. As far as you know, you’ve been isekai’d into a novel called The Villianess’s Revenge, where you are a plot point. Canon fodder. Where you’re the background character who happens to die in an event that the main character will shine. And specifically: you’ll die by your husband’s hands.

You like to think that you could’ve avoided your fate, but it’s bad, because you woke up to wedding preparations—the first time you open your eyes in a foreign world, there’s a burst of chatter and activity in a luxurious room, and you see white everywhere. Memories of your past life whizz past you in a frantic blur and your head is still muddled: oh, right. You got hit by a truck. Memories of the novel follows, and you can only blink as you realize the stupid coincidence that you share the same name as the character you had possessed.

Your fate remains: you’re  getting married.

To the Grand Duke of…the Northern Kingdom.

Admittedly, you don’t know how to feel. There’s the obvious fear that you’ll be walking right to death’s door, but again, you don’t exactly die during the wedding. You only die months after that. So you don’t really need to worry about anything yet right? The Duke will be cold towards you, but it doesn’t matter: he’s a stranger to you, too, and you plan on kissing him for as little as you can.

 And, you think, it certainly didn’t help it that the Grand Duke is devastatingly handsome. You can see his looks working its spell on you—you can see yourself simpering, your eyes going wide eyed. You’re trying to steel yourself. You’re trying to make yourself immune to Altair’s beauty. 

Fast forward: you’re walking down the aisle, aghast at the sight of your weeping mother and your crying father who just look so proud of you. They seem like decent parents, which is…strange. So—

—Oh. The [Name] in the original story did have three lines of description. One, that he was a spoiled brat, pampered by his parents, and two, he has a fucking crush on the Grand Duke. Hence a strategic alliance placed confidently for [Name] to get his wish.

…Asshole, you think. The veil is covering your face and you’re dressed in a white suit adorned with flowers. You can feel your throat dry up, all the moistness leaving your lips and instead churning down your throat. You wrinkle your nose, before you try to swallow down profanities. The music behind you almost seems taunting.

You stop in front of the groom.

Standing there in all his resplendent glory is none other than your soon to be husband, whose face is unreadable. You can’t see him, only smudges and smears. After all, the veil is covering his face—but gloom settles in you.

He’s going to be disappointed, you think glumly. His face seems vaguely familiar, probably because you do know how he looks, tangentially, but your thoughts are a hot mess right now. You can’t find the power within you to place a finger on it: so instead of bothering over it, you stand in front of the Duke in trepidation.

The Duke slowly lifts up the veil — gently and slowly, and you can swear emotion flits across his face as he gazes at you. You blink owlishly at him, at a loss of words. This is their first time meeting, and you two are about to lock lips. Or perhaps lock lips is an exaggeration—it will be nothing but a useless peck. But thankfully, though indiscernible, his face not one of disappointment.

Almost..fond? You think, then there is belated horror: wait, what? 

You ignore that. And then when your thoughts subside, you realize how ridiculously hot he is. 

“[Name],” he whispers, Altair, the cold, heartless, murderer of a Duke whispers, and your breath catches in your throat. It’s not even the expression on his face that knocks the wind out of your chest: it’s the way he calls out your name. Carefully, like he’s savoring the taste of the name on his tongue, like deja vu. But then again, perhaps it helps that you have read this scene. And the scene, though very—different—is unfolding in front of your very eyes.

This is your murderer, you think, don’t look at his face, [Name]!

You start to lower your head meekly, but Altair tips your head back up.

“How,” there is a teasing tone to his voice—teasing, like this is so funny to him—“how, do you expect me to kiss you?”

Your jaw drops. Then it closes. You are well aware of the blush around your cheeks that has betrayed you. 

.

.

What?

.

.

Seriously, is he programmed wrong? Why is Altair OOC? You coined enough fanfiction terms to label everything wrong with this. There’s a proper term for this, but you can’t seem to remember it. You do notice the way that Altair glowers at everyone else, before his expression smoothens when he faces you.

You close your eyes to give out a sigh. You forget this is a marriage. So you forget what happens when you get married.

A kiss.

You startle when you feel lips—firm but soft at the same time, pressing against your own. It’s tender, sweet, loving, and you practically melt against it. When you break away, the taste of Altair’s—your husband’s lips still linger on your own.

This defies all the rumors about the Duke, who supposedly was a cold hearted bastard who killed his advisors for speaking out of turn. No, this man is tender and gentle, and his delicate touch is nothing short of sweet. 

Before you can retort, or before your lagging brain can even comprehend this—the guests burst into cheers. You just feel numb as Altair guides you slowly down the aisle, ready to board the carriage into the manor. Mansion. Whatever. Your new home.

Your…

Altair presses a kiss to your forehead before he whispers in your ear. “I cannot wait for our wedding night, Y/n.”

You freeze.

The term starts to arise in your head.

Gap Moe, you think, this is fucking gap moe.

likes/reblogs would be so appreciated! and so will comments :) don’t mind me haha im tryna figure tumblr’s algorithm out which might explain my varied content || this oneshot will probably have a part two or three because there’s actually a reason behind everything. I’ll see how this does first

[doeidawn]

☁︎ — helping hand

kyle was always a good friend to you, a shoulder to cry on and a hand to hold when times got rough. maybe it was a good thing that your biggest problem as of late was a (seemingly endless) cycle of bad boyfriends. but kyle can't stand to see you upset; not when he knows just how well he can help you. 5.4k

⟢ pairing: gaz x f!reader

⟢ tags: MDNI/18+; one-time fwb turns into two-times; reference to previous sexual encounters; technically hurt/comfort—reader has shitty ex-bfs; smoking; gaz is a tease; oral sex [f receiving]; fingering; couch sex; unprotected piv sex (wrap it before you tap it); praise; slight possessive gaz if you squint; increasingly desperate sex; handjob; semi-awkward aftercare; i do not know how to end long fics sorry it's lame

It’s been a while since you and Kyle hooked up.

Eight months, to be exact. Nearly a year. Thankfully, everything was still okay between you two. He was a close friend—a good friend—and hooking up didn’t seem to change much about that. If anything, it only improved things; there was no lingering tension simmering in the air on late nights. No more wondering how his hands and lips would feel on your skin or yearning to hear him whisper filth in your ear. And even though it seemed surreal to remember the way he felt against you, it was over after that one time.

So you moved on. Even though your body begged for more and every fantasy seemed to circle back to him, you moved on.

In fact, Kyle was nothing but supportive of moving on. He was among the first to learn every time you started talking to someone new. He cared enough to vet the guys you met whenever he could, the major downside being that his criteria of “worthy of dating you” seemed very strict. So strict that none of them ever really fulfilled it. But you always assumed it was because Kyle cared about you and wanted you safe with a guy who knew your worth. Truthfully, he was the most supportive wingman you could’ve asked for.

It was a bittersweet feeling. You had to wonder if the night you shared replayed in his head as often as your own. He was the best you ever had, no doubt about it, but you knew it wasn’t in your best interest to yearn for your best friend. But, goddamn, was his embrace a hard one to find a replacement for.

Try as he may to keep you safe and prevent any heartbreak, it was, unfortunately, inevitable. Despite all of his efforts to keep you away from guys who were so clearly just using you, he couldn’t have known you were desperate enough to fill the void that you couldn’t stop yourself from lunging at the promise of a warm body. It was never worth it in the end. Every time, without fail, you’d run back to Kyle to cry on his shoulder. It sucked. But he was always the greatest help.

And, as much as you hated yourself for it, that’s exactly where you found yourself again. Sat on his sofa while you blow snot into tissues and smoke through his cigarettes just to rant about your latest failure of a date. You felt no better than the subjects of whatever trashy television was playing on the screen; originally intended to laugh at for distraction, now only reminding you how pitiful you felt. 

Like always, Kyle had a reassuring hand rubbing your back, nice enough to nod along to your sputtering and curses, as nonsensical as they were. He was so nice, and it made you feel like shit whenever you came around with another sob story.

You run a hand over your puffy eyes, wiping away another stream of tears from your cheeks. “M’sorry, Kyle. I didn’t mean to come over n’ cause a scene.”

“You’re alright, love.” The reassurance was nice, and it felt genuine, but it didn’t necessarily change how you felt.

“No, I’m not. I’m a fuckin’ mess.” A self-deprecating laugh leaves your lips as you run another tissue over your raw and red nose. “You think I’d learn a thing or two by now.”

“Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault those guys don’t know a perfect woman when they’ve got her.”

You roll your eyes at that. “‘A perfect woman’.” The thought makes you scoff. You felt anything but perfect. “Do I look like a perfect woman right now?”

“‘Course you do.” Kyle brings his other hand close and, for a moment, you think he’s going to hold your hand. Instead, he plucks away the cigarette hanging lazily between your fingers. “Smoking’s not a good look, though.”

“They’re your cigarettes.”

“Ah, that’s neither here nor there.” He takes a puff of his own before leaning forward to stub out the cigarette in an ashtray on the coffee table. “Never said I was perfect, did I?”

“You seem to have your shit together better than me.” You throw your tissue towards a bin Kyle had brought near the sofa once your crying had started. “I’m an idiot for not listenin’ to you.”

“Well, beatin’ yourself up over it isn’t gonna solve anythin’.”

“But it’s true. You warn me all the time about these guys. It’s either one boring date or a hookup just for…mediocre sex. At best.” Kyle scoffs at that. “And…then it’s over.”

Leaning back against the sofa, you run your hands over your face again. Frustration gnaws at you, tugging at the back of your mind and filling you with some unnamed emotion that makes everything feel bitter. It wasn’t Kyle’s fault for not knowing why you were so hard on yourself. It’s not like he knew it was him you were trying to replace.

You huff an exasperated sigh. “I’m just…frustrated. I can’t remember the last time a guy made me feel…good. Made me feel wanted.”

There’s a beat of silence, and Kyle nods his head in thought like he’s debating his inner monologue. He settles back against the sofa next to you. 

“I can.”

Two simple words and yet they make your heart feel like it’ll jump out of your chest. Choking on your breath felt preferable to meeting his gaze. 

“Oh, shut up.” You laugh, but you aren’t sure it’s because you found it funny. 

His hand finds its way to your thigh, the warmth of his touch seeping through your sweatpants. “You could have that again, you know. We could have that again.” You almost hate how hopeful he sounds.

You aren’t sure what to say. It must show on your face, you figure, when you notice his smile from the corner of your eye.

It would be a total and utter lie to pretend you haven’t thought about the possibility a million times over. As if you haven’t had to remember the way his touch felt so you could get yourself off when every other man couldn’t. But every time, without fail, the nastiest guilt would purge those thoughts away, ashamed of yourself for thinking about something he never seemed to bother remembering. 

But now he was proposing to do it all over again. And you wanted to. You wanted to so badly.

“Kyle…” Your throat is dry when you finally manage to utter the words. “I thought you…I assumed it was just a one-time thing…”

“It doesn’t have t’be.”

Of course it does, you want to argue. It wasn’t fair the way his touch had you yearning for something you shouldn’t want. But the more you thought about it, the less you wanted to fight it. 

His soft voice fills the silence as his thumb brushes over your thigh. “It’s what you deserve; someone who can make you feel good. And wanted.”

“I thought you only did that because I was…frustrated.”

“Mm. And you’re frustrated now, aren’t you?” 

It’s a simple question, but his tone is dulcet and sweet like he’s trying to seduce you. Truthfully, you feared it was working. Goddamn tease.

“I…suppose you could say that.” You concede, almost fighting the smile forming on your lips.

Kyle’s hand slides off of your thigh before snaking behind you, slotting perfectly on your curves as his arm wraps around your waist. “It certainly seems that way to me.” He leans in closer and your heart leaps into your throat when the warmth of his breath hits your cheek. “I don’t mind helpin’ you out again.”

You hope he doesn’t notice how tense you are, how your lips quiver as you finally bring yourself to speak. “Are…are you serious..?”

A small laugh escapes him as he pulls you closer. His lips press small, gentle kisses on the underside of your jaw, each one sending a shiver down your spine. You can practically feel the blood pumping hurriedly through your veins. He didn’t have to say anything to tell you how serious he was.

Heat pools in your core when his other hand slides up your thigh. More insistent than the last time, his fingers rub and knead at the pliant flesh hidden beneath your clothes. Your nerves come alight, sensitive to every brush of his fingers as they move inward on your body.

You tilt your head enough to catch Kyle’s attention. Placing a hand on his cheek when his nose brushes yours, you impatiently close the gap between your mouths. It’s a gentle kiss, but there’s an undoubtable hunger in it. Almost instantly, you feel the tension leave your body, replaced by an insatiable need that gnaws at your core.

He completely bombarded your senses. His smell in your nostrils, his touch on your curves, his taste on your lips—everything about him had your head spinning. It’s too much and too little all at the same time.

The movement of your hips was an impulsive one; a plea for him to hurry up or give you more. The whine that left you was a pathetic sound that escaped your mouth and filled his.

You could feel Kyle smile against you, his grip on your waist tightening. “Christ, you’re really impatient, huh?”

“Shut up, Kyle,” you pant. He wasn’t wrong; your patience was worn thin at this point. It was almost torturous to feel so needy.

“Easy, baby,” he coos against your lips. As riled up as you were, calming down wasn’t a simple ask, but you willed yourself to listen. The way he spoke to you made your body want to obey his every command. “I know what you need.”

When his mouth meets yours for another series of hungry kisses, you could feel his hand move higher up your thigh. His touch was intentionally light, a tease to leave you wanting more. And it did. It took everything in your power to keep still when his fingertips brushed over the space between your thighs.

But you couldn’t stop yourself when his hand finally dipped beneath the waistband of your sweatpants. You could feel how slick and desperate you were before his fingertips brushed over your panties. He groans into your mouth when he finds the wetness seeping through the fabric, cupping your cunt to feel you squirm.

“Oh, you poor thing. You needed this so bad, didn’t you?” You can almost sense some sincerity in his tease. Almost. 

You’re moaning against his lips before you can form your own tease. Kyle’s touch grows more insistent, his fingers dragging up and down your wet panties until he starts gently circling your clit. Your nails dig into his arm, hips rocking into his makeshift rhythm. Already sensitive from being neglected, the rough and wet fabric against your clit leaves you whining and groaning pathetically under his touch.

“Fuck, baby, you sound so needy.” You could hear the smile in his voice. Your heavy eyes watch his gaze rake over your body to ogle the way your legs spread. 

“Don’t…don’t tease me, Ky…” You groan between broken breaths and gasps. Your hips roll eagerly, bucking against the steady pressure of his fingertips. “C’mon, touch me. Please.”

You don’t mean to whine when his hand slides out from underneath your clothes. “Really impatient, aren’t we?” He mutters under his breath like he hadn’t meant for you to hear him before settling his hand on your hip. “I told you, I know what you need.”

You don’t get the chance to ask him to hurry up before he’s pulling your hips along the sofa cushions, guiding your body until you’re laid out on the furniture. You trusted him—even when you weren’t ferociously horny for his touch, you trusted him—and knew he’d make the wait worth it.

His fingers hook on the hem of your sweatpants, tugging it and your panties down your outstretched legs. The cool air hits your wet flesh and sends goosebumps over your skin. Your clothes are discarded somewhere on the floor before Kyle settles between your legs, bent down and crunched on the sofa until his face is level with your cunt.

Arms wrapped around your thighs, he kisses along the soft skin, alternating sides and nipping occasionally to feel the muscle underneath tense. As impatient as you were, you watched with rapt attention as his eyes focused on your slick cunt, sensitive enough to twitch every time you felt his breath hit.

One of his hands runs over your thigh until his rough fingertips are spreading you open. He smiles, smirking as if proud of himself. “You missed me, huh?”

You didn’t know if that was a comment on your impatience or how wet you were. Maybe both. “Maybe…just a li’l…” You pant, shivering when his warm breath ghosts over your clit as he laughs.

“Oh, I know you did. You’re fuckin’ dripping, love.”

Kyle’s eyes meet yours before his head dips down and his tongue sticks out to lick a slow stripe up your slit. The wet friction takes your breath away, nails digging into the cushion beneath you to ground yourself. His tongue spreads you apart, lapping at your arousal and gliding over your most sensitive parts.

“You taste just as good as I remember.” His words are muffled against your cunt, almost immediately drowned out by his wet slurps and your moans.

The flat of his tongue circles around your clit before gently sucking it into his mouth. The pressure already has your legs twitching and tensing, shockwaves of pleasure shooting through every nerve. He guides one of your legs up, propped against the back cushion of the sofa, before running his hand down your thigh. 

Fingertips gently caress your cunt, gliding through the mess of your arousal and his saliva, teasing and circling your hole. Two thick digits push inside and the sudden stretch has your hands flying towards Kyle, fingers digging into his short curls, desperate for some part of him to hold on to.

It’s been far too long since you felt this good. Eight months too long. The attention was almost unfamiliar; something overwhelmingly delicious that only he seemed to give you. The way he sucks on your clit while his fingers pump and curl just right makes your head fall back against the armrest. You can feel yourself squeezing his fingers and throbbing against his tongue, that ache in the pit of your stomach already beginning to form.

Kyle groans before sliding his mouth off of you. “Easy, baby. Fuck, you’re grippin’ so tight…” A gentle kiss lands on the inside of your thigh as his fingers curl again. “None of your li’l boyfriends touched you like this, did they?”

If you were any more coherent, you might have said something about how jealous he sounded. But that wasn’t the point right now; right now all you were focused on was how deep his fingers hit, and how right he was.

You shake your head. “No…not like this. Not this good,” you manage to admit between moans.

“Not this good,” he echoes, proudly whispering to himself, before his head dips down again.

His lips latch around your clit again, suckling and running his tongue over it until your hips start to buck. The sounds are disgustingly lewd; wet squelches with every thrust of his fingers, the sloppy sounds of his mouth, and your wanton moans—it’s everything you’d been fantasizing about since the last time he had you. 

Your eyes flutter open as you lift your head off of the armrest. Seeing Kyle, barely fitting himself on the sofa just to ravage you, makes you tighten around his fingers. “Holy shit, Ky. I’m gonna cum. You’re gonna make me cum,” you warn, panting breathlessly. Your toes curl, thighs tensing at the mounting heat in your core.

“Already? Oh, that’s a good girl,” he growls against your cunt. “Cum f’me. C’mon, show me how much you missed me.”

The hunger in his eyes makes you shudder. You were already close to the edge, but with his encouragement, you completely fell apart. With another swirl of his tongue and a harsh thrust of his fingers, your body goes taut with pleasure. The ecstasy that you’ve denied yourself for far too long shoots through your veins until your thighs are shaking.

Kyle hums contentedly at the tightness surrounding his fingers before easing them out. He quickly replaces the emptiness with his tongue, spreading you apart and lapping at your slick cum. He doesn’t pull back until you start to whine. With heavy eyes and a heaving chest, you watch him settle back on his knees, noting the way his lips and chin glisten. 

That unmistakable hunger—desire and determination mixed—is still clear as day in his eyes. He leans over you, lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss, and the taste and smell of yourself floods your senses. You reach out for him, twisting your fingers into his shirt to keep him close.

He groans into your mouth, the mess of tongue and teeth complimented by the sound. His hands find your waist, pushing your shirt up and sliding under layers until he can paw at your chest. You almost whine when one of his hands moves off of you until you hear the metallic jangle of his belt buckle coming undone.

He pulls back just enough to look down at you and your eyes immediately dart to his hand to watch him impatiently tug down his pants. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen his cock, but seeing it now—thick and heavy and warm as it brushes against your skin—makes all the memories from the first time flood your mind. And knowing how good he made you feel before only made you that much more eager.

Kyle wraps a hand around himself, giving his cock a few firm pumps before guiding it towards your wet slit. The head of his cock spreads your cunt and brushes against your sensitive clit with each roll of his hips. You can hear how wet you are, how you coat him in your slick with every movement, and you shudder when he groans.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty when you’re needy,” he sighs. His hand, still kneading your chest under your shirt, slides down to grip your waist firmly. “God, I could look at you like this all day.”

“C’mon…Don’t make me beg.” You coo, trying to coax him as your legs hook over his hips.

“Oh, that’s a good idea.”

“Kyle.”

“You had no problem waitin’ eight months. You can wait a bit longer, right?”

“I swear to God, Kyle, just fuck me—”

Your own shaky moan interrupts your speech, ripped from your throat as Kyle suddenly pushes the head of his cock past your entrance. He leans down to plant a chaste kiss on the side of your parted lips.

“Gotta work on your patience, love.”

You can feel every inch as he slowly eases his thick cock into you. With nails digging into the sofa cushions to ground you amidst the delicious stretch, both of you moan when he finally bottoms out. He stills long enough for you to feel the way your slick walls flutter around him.

Thumbs press gently into the dip of your hips in a reassuring squeeze. “You alright?” He asks, scanning your face for approval. A pathetic nod and an ‘uh-huh’ that sounds more like a whimper escapes your lips. “Nearly forgot how perfect you feel.”

Kyle leans back on his knees, straightening up with a devilish smirk and an even hungrier look in his eye. His pace is slow when he finally begins to rock his hips back and forth. He watches your body intently; ogling at the way your cunt swallows every inch of him, savoring the way you mold around him, keeping an eye out for any sign of discomfort. 

You moan on every downstroke as he fills you with every slow thrust, the head of his cock pushing just right against that sweet spot deep inside. Still so slick and sensitive from your recent orgasm, every nerve feels alight—addicted to the fullness and the way his cock twitches inside you. 

“Oh, fuck.” You whine as your hands search him out, desperate to be even closer. You can feel his muscles tense when your hands run up his arms and hold onto him tightly. “God, you fill me so good…so fuckin’ deep.”

Kyle makes a sound at that, something between a laugh and a groan. “I know, baby,” he coos softly, encouraging your touch when he leans back to pull his shirt off over his head.

There’s no hiding the way you tighten around him when you see his bare skin. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight, but something about watching his muscles tense with every push of his hips made your head spin. He leans closer, just enough for you to reach your hands out and splay your fingers over his chest.

“I needed you so fucking badly.” The confession tumbles from your lips without thought, forced out alongside a moan that proves how true it was. “You make me feel so good. I never—shit—never should’ve looked for someone else.”

His jaw goes tight, a low grunt in the back of his throat his only reply to your admission. His gaze drops from your face to watch where his hips meet yours, but judging by the way his chest rises with heavier, deeper breaths, you aren’t so sure it’s because he’s uncomfortable. 

He’s holding back. 

The thought sends a shiver down your spine and your hips buck in his direction on the next agonizingly slow thrust. “I missed you so much, Kyle.” It wasn’t a lie—your body’s reaction to him was more than enough proof of that—but you wanted to see him let go, to stop being so gentle and kind like he always was. “C’mon, fuck me like you missed me too.”

That does the trick.

Kyle mutters a swear under his breath as his hands move to grab the underside of your thighs, pushing your legs towards your chest. Your hands fall to the sofa cushion at the sudden change in position. His hips slam against yours, one foot planted on the floor so he has complete control as he drives his cock all the way within you. There’s no more finesse, no more charm—just pure need.

Hearing the way you yelp and whine at his newfound desperation makes him curse under his breath again. “I missed you…so fuckin’ much,” he grunts, the words coming out as more of a growl. “Christ, I needed this. Been needin’ you all this time. I couldn’t stop…thinkin’ about you.”

That confession makes your head swim—you wonder if this is how he felt hearing your own admission of missing him. You’d thought about the last encounter countless times, but you never would’ve thought it meant as much to him as it did. The way he pounded into you now made you convinced that he craved this just as badly as you did.

“Yeah?” You whine, smiling pathetically at him. “Oh, God, me too. I needed this, needed you.”

When his eyes meet yours, you see nothing but determination behind his gaze, feral and hungry and needy. His hands dig into the plump skin of your thighs as he holds your legs in place. “Did you think of me when they fucked you? Huh? Did you have to think about my hands? My cock?”

All you can do is nod, frantic and hurried, as a pathetic “uh-huh” is forced from your lungs. Heat pools at the bottom of your stomach, tugging at your sensitive insides with every quick punch of his cock deep inside.

Kyle groans, a deep, guttural sound that makes your slick walls flutter around him. “Yeah, they didn’t make you feel this good, did they? No one can make you feel like I do. No one fills this pretty pussy like I do, huh?”

You can’t even form a proper response, your mind blanking. Your eyes roll back, head lying against the armrest, every muscle so tense yet malleable to his will. Your lack of a response was enough proof he was right; no one else stretched and filled you the way he did. 

You hear him curse again before he speaks through gritted teeth. “I would’ve given you this…any-fucking-time you wanted it. Whenever you needed me.”

Finally releasing the sofa cushion, your hands seek out the warmth of his skin, fingers curling against his arms. You could feel yourself tensing, your cunt hugging every inch of him as he slid in and out. “Ky, I’m…I’m gonna c-cum again—fuck.”

You could almost feel his stare boring through you when his grip tightens on the skin of your thighs. “That’s it, gimme one more. C’mon,” Kyle groans through his encouragement, “I’ve waited eight goddamn months. I need to feel you cum on my cock again.”

You bite your lip to hold back the pathetic moans and whimpers leaving your mouth. It was all wanton and needy—involuntary sounds pushed out of your lungs with every deep, rough thrust. The squelching of your cunt welcoming his cock fills your ears, his skin hitting yours with a satisfying slap each time.

“Let me hear you,” he coaxes, almost desperate. “I know you’re close, baby, you’re gettin’ so tight.”

It didn’t take his encouragement for another set of choked moans to slip past your lips. It was harder and harder to hold back, to fight off the mounting pressure in your core. “Fuck, Kyle, s’too much…”

“S’alright, I got you. Just cum one more time f’me, baby. Just one more.”

Maybe it was his encouragement, maybe it was the possessiveness underlying his tone, maybe it was the way his cock hit so perfectly deep, maybe it was because he was the first guy to make you feel good in months. Whatever the reason was, when you came for the second time, you felt that pleasure in every inch of your body.

Every muscle tenses, taut with pleasure as waves of ecstasy flow through you, flooding every nerve. Your nails dig into his skin and your toes curl until you’re left shaking. Your cunt hugs every inch of him, pulsing and milking him for all that he’s worth as he slowly fucks you through the high with stuttered thrusts.

“That’s it, there you go,” you hear him pant at one point. “Keep going, baby, give it to me.”

Kyle’s own sounds are barely audible as your moans fill the air, but he curses and groans as he watches your body tense and throb and twitch. The obscenely lewd sound of your squelching cunt is even more obvious now with the slick cum coating his cock. 

Just as the last tremors of your orgasm start to fade, he pulls out hastily with a groan. He releases your legs from his grip, and the ache you know you’ll feel soon is pushed to the back of your mind when he leans down to plant a kiss on your lips. 

He pulls back just enough to look down at you, at your flushed sweaty skin, to watch you pant and barely have the energy to look back up at him. “God, you’re so fucking perfect.”

Planting another kiss on your lips, you can feel Kyle shift to wrap a hand around himself. Stroking himself steadily between your legs, his breathing grows heavier between each kiss, the wet sound of his cock covered in your cum sliding against his palm hitting your ears. It’s not until you reach down into the space between your bodies that he stops.

You don’t stop kissing him as you nudge his hand off of his cock to replace his rough, calloused touch with your much softer one. He grunts almost immediately, hips bucking into your hand as it wraps snugly around him. You try to mimic the pace he had set, pumping the length of his cock, the slick of your cum making the movement fluid and easy. 

“Fuck, just like that…” His hands reach past you to grab the cushion beneath your body. You catch a glance of him, watching his eyebrows knit tight on his forehead, before he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

His breath hits your skin, warm and heavy, sending a shiver down your spine as he moans and grunts. His hips stutter as he bucks into your hand a final time, cock twitching as his cum hits your stomach. Your hand works out every drop until he's wincing and pulling his hips away. 

There are a few beats of silence, the only sound being the two sets of heavy breaths as you both come down from a much-needed high. Though your senses start to come back and your body grounds itself against the sofa cushions and his skin, it still doesn’t feel real somehow. But despite being an unbelievable act, you don’t feel any regret this time. 

Kyle’s the first one to move, eventually pulling back enough to look down at you. “Feel better?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Even through heavy eyes, you can’t miss the way he smiles. He sits back on his knees to tuck his softening cock back into his pants and you watch as his eyes study the mess on your stomach before you look at it yourself. Just the sight of his cum pooling on your skin sends warmth directly to your core. He leans over to the table, grabbing what few tissues were left after your earlier crying spells, to clean the mess he’d left on you.

Nothing but silence for a moment as Kyle carefully runs the tissue over your stomach as you bask in the afterglow. It’s all the reassurance about him that you need. There’s an unspoken desire in the warmth of his eyes, in the way he looks at you and caresses your skin like you’re worthy of worship. The way he makes you feel—wanted—has your heart fluttering in your chest.

You eventually break the silence with a sigh. “Thank you, Kyle. I…I do feel better. A lot better.”

“Good. That’s good.” He only looks up to throw the soiled tissues in the bin next to the sofa. “Sorry for, uh…Y’know, makin’ you a mess.” He gestures to the lower half of your body with a shrug.

You raise an eyebrow at that. “Wasn’t that your intention?”

That makes him smile. A shy, almost nervous smile that you aren’t sure you’ve ever seen him wear. “You got me.” One last swipe of the soft tissue against your skin to ensure you’re clean. “At least I’m cleanin’ you up afterward.”

“Yeah, aren’t you just a proper gentleman?”

Your sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed. “Hey, I bet those other blokes never bothered.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you roll your eyes at his sentiment. “That’s because those blokes never bothered to make me cum in the first place.” You have to smile at him, at the way he cringes at himself for bringing up your previous partners. “If you want reassurance, you’ve got it. They’ve got nothin’ on you, Garrick.”

“I know, I know. I jus’ like to hear you say it.” Kyle leans down, meeting you halfway for a kiss that’s much softer yet holds the weight of the world behind. His hands skirt over your hips before trailing up your naked skin and resting on your waist. “You need a proper wash. C’mon.”

The ache in your muscles starts to set in as the bliss slowly fades. You groan at the stiffness in your knees when he pulls you up with him to stand on your feet. There’s sweat drying on your back, a familiar stickiness between your legs, and your feet feel unsteady.

But Kyle wraps an arm around you to keep you from stumbling and wobbling on your way to the restroom. His fingertips glided over your skin, tracing curves and dips with reverent ease. He held you like you were porcelain, even after you were in the water. 

Many things could be said about Kyle. Most of them circled back to his generosity, his willingness to help, even when you felt like an unwanted burden. But he gave you everything you could ever want. And maybe one day you’ll realize it’s because he needs your helping hands just as much as you need his. 

[mssainz]

PART 14 | AFTER FIVE YEARS

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader

Summary: Carlos Sainz finally met his son he had with her ex-wife, Y/N.

Warning: None

Carlos came out from his son’s room and was startled to see you standing by the door. “How long have you been standing here?”

“Long enough to hear you two talking about marriage?”

Caught off guard, Carlos quickly changed the subject. “Have you eaten yet? I cooked dinner. I can reheat it for you.”

“Actually, no. I haven’t had dinner. I was so busy I forgot.”

Carlos reheat the food for you. “Why do you always end up spending your days off at the hospital? I can still remember when we first met. It was also your day off and we both ended up at the hospital,” Carlos said, while he prepared the food for you. Just the thought of your first interaction drew a smile to his face. He sat beside you and joined you for dinner as he himself hasn't eaten yet.

“Yeah, I was so frustrated with you that day, you know that? You’re such an idiot for spraining your ankle and overreacting that you heard it cracked,” YN replied, eliciting a chuckle from him. Carlos simply lifted YN’s sleeves to avoid getting stained while you are getting food.

Carlos was in pain lying on the ground after spraining his ankle while hiking with Lando. YN, not far away behind them, was also hiking to unwind from the toxicity of the hospital.

“You’re not a doctor today, YN. It’s your day off, don’t help them. They can handle themselves. Someone will help them,” YN kept whispering to herself as she passed by them. “Ugh, no ones gonna help them,” YN grudged and went back to them.

“Excuse me? What happened?”

“Hey, uhm, my friend kinda sprained his ankle,” Lando said, trying to initiate a conversation.

“Kinda sprain? Cabron, I think I fucking broke it. I heard some cracking in there,” Carlos whines in pain.

“Can you stand or sit up a bit?” YN nonchalantly asked him.

He is so fucking overreacting, such a cry baby. He probably only sprained his ankle.

“Are you serious? Can’t you see my situation? Can’t you see?” Carlos replied and rolled his eyes while still holding his injured ankle.

“Let me see,” YN said and bent down to see his foot. Carlos slightly flinched because of her sudden gesture. She began to remove his shoe and examined his injury. “What are you doing? I’m a professional athlete, for your information,” Carlos defensively said.

“Oh yeah? Thanks for informing me ‘cause I don’t really know who you are. And I’m a doctor for your information. And stop whining, you just had a sprained ankle, nothing is broken,” YN replied as she dug into her bag to find bandages.

“How do you know it’s not broken? Are you an X-Ray or something?” Carlos replied, making Lando facepalm. “She's a doctor, do you have ear impaction or something,” Lando replied.

I didn’t study for more than ten years for this.

“Doc, do you have extra bandages? His mouth seems injured, badly needs to be covered. Stop being whiny, muppet,” Lando whispered to Carlos, preventing him from saying more embarrassing things.

“I already texted a friend to pick us up here. He’ll bring us to the hospital to get you checked if that’s your concern,” YN replied while clenching her teeth out of frustration.

The radiologist confirmed that he is fine and just needs some rest. “See? You’re completely fine. Just make sure to rest, have cold compression to reduce the swelling. And elevate your foot to promote blood circulation around the area,” YN said with a straight face.

I’m not supposed to be here. It’s my day off and I need fucking rest.

“By the way, what’s your name again?” Carlos asked her, while lying on a hospital bed.

“Doc YN!” She seems to have really bad luck today as she saw her intern running towards her direction. “Doc, thank God you’re here. He must have heard my prayer.”

Yeah, He heard you. I should have also prayed today.

“There is this deaf kid that arrived at the ER. I can’t understand her. You know sign language right? We kinda need a hand, Doc” the intern said, fueling YN’s anger.

“Gosh! Fuck really? Yes, I know how to communicate using sign language. And do you really need to know how to sign language to help the patient? For pete sake, you could have done some basic gestures to communicate to her, to ask her if she needed help! What if I’m not here, you’re not gonna help her cause you don’t know how to do sign language? Really? Urgh where is she?,” YN scolded him. She’s already losing her composure. She is supposed to be enjoying her free time but ended up in the hospital communicating with her intern who doesn't use his head when handling patients.

He then led her to the girl and found out that his father was in the parking lot showing signs of a stroke. YN returns to the ER straddling and doing CPR on the patient. Meanwhile, Carlos was just watching her from afar with his injured ankle. Everything went slow now and his eyes were all on her.

“Carlos, are you okay?” Lando said, waving his hand over his face.

“I have never seen a woman who is as skillful and gorgeous as her,” Carlos replied.

“No, I’m not overreacting, my ankle hurts so bad,” Carlos defended.

“Oh yeah?” YN said, teasing him. Carlos just just rolled his eyes at her and continued finishing his dinner.

"And even if I was overreacting that moment, it's just that it hurts. I'm not usually like that,"

"Yeah, if you say so." YN knows that in this relationship she is the more calm one and less bothered.

You two talked about how your day went. Carlos tells you what he and Cael did. It felt like everything was fine and there was no unsettled business between you two.

“Hey, leave the dishes. I’ll handle that,” Carlos said, stopping you from even laying a hand on the plate. He then approached you, “One second, look at me.”

“What? Why,” YN replied in confusion.

Carlos wiped the sauce at the corner of your lips. “Oh, thanks.”

“I can handle this, you should rest. I know you had a long day,” Carlos insisted.

“I’ll help you. I also know you are tired from your flight and from taking care of our kid, who has a long-lasting battery. So let me, okay?” YN replied, giving him a sweet smile. Ever since their conversation at the beach, YN tried to be less hostile with Carlos. Blanca was right, if they are not going back together at least be friends for Cael.

“Here’s Cael’s baby pictures.” YN handed Carlos a bunch of photo albums filled with Cael’s milestones. She likes to keep it traditional, so she really exerted efforts to print Cael’s pictures out despite having social media.

“Here’s one of my favorite pictures,” YN gave him a photo of Cael’s handprint when he was just three months old. “His hand is so tiny,” Carlos looked at it fondly and started to become emotional.

“Can I keep it?” Carlos asking permission.

“Sure, you can keep it,” YN replied. Carlos started to take pictures of the photo album.

“Uhm, btw, you can sleep on the couch in my room,” YN awkwardly said.

But Carlos, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable, replied, “No, it's okay. I'm fine here in the living room.”

“Well, I'm not fine with you sleeping here. The ac is broken in the living room,” YN replied. Carlos hesitated a bit because he doesn't want to create further awkwardness between them.

“Come on before I change my mind,��� YN said before walking towards her room. Carlos then immediately followed her to sleep.

THE PHOTO ALBUM

AN: Here's another update. I hope you like it. Let me know your thoughts and if you wanna be added to the taglist.

TAGLIST:

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[inevesgf]

jealousy, jealousy • lando norris

request rules here.

formula one masterlist here.

synopsis ➔ two close friends ignore their love for each other until it becomes too much to handle for one of them.

warnings ⭒ lonnggg, kind of angst/comfort, swearing, use of she/her, driver x female!reader, driver x race engineer!reader, mentions of sex, jealous lando wink wink.

you searched in all different types of nooks and crannys in the world to find love. desperately grasping at the idea, peaking in places to find that good in the bad. but it was hard, you knew that, time and time again you were reminded of why you shut yourself out so much. the worry, the pain — in the end you thought maybe the good times didn’t even make up for the bad ones. you had plenty of misfortune in your love life throughout the years, whether it was your fault or your partners. you found yourself becoming picky: a perfectionist to the love you receive when the love you gave wasn’t quite good enough either. it had come to the point where you became so detached from finding that perfect person. you stopped searching and stood silent like a predator in a bush waiting to catch its prey.

love comes unexpectedly, you had heard that saying plenty of times before that now you have come to believe it. you stopped wasting nights on men that didn’t matter, you stopped trying to impress people — you were just yourself. as years past, friends found themselves shocked at the idea that you would date someone. they saw you as headstrong, independent, and the thought of you in love made them question if they were dreaming. you didn’t want to be seen like some hopeless romantic — someone who didn’t want to love — but you didn’t want to seem desperate either. it seemed as if not even the perfect medium of those two was reachable where you had now hid yourself.

you had been single for a few years now and even if you didn’t want to admit it, you missed being in a relationship. those around you saw you as independent, someone who didn’t need a man, but the need was more of something your heart wanted. you loved too hard, it’s what got you hurt in the end, and as much as you tried to fight it off, it was still there. you masked yourself with a facade that you were too good for any man, that you didn’t want them falling at your feet and nor would you fall at theirs. love was complicated, embarrassing, and you couldn’t even come to fathom the situation you had wiggled yourself into.

you had found yourself in a world full of men, smack dab in the middle of being an engineer for mercedes in the formula one. you took your job seriously and didn’t let much get in the way, but to admit you were far more than just an engineer to some of those men; a friend at that. you found yourself being invited to parties by the FIA, other formula one racing teams, and some of the drivers individually. while you weren’t totally the party type, you didn’t hate the idea of tagging along every now and then. while working for formula one, you put your gaze nowhere else but forward. it was distracting being constantly surrounded by the media, those with higher positions, and even sometimes all-too-good-looking race car drivers. you would never let something so silly get in the way of your position, but sometimes with a little bit of liquid courage, things happen.

“can you hand me my cologne?” the voice of lando norris boomed throughout the hotel room as you cladded your way to the bathroom before handing it to him. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you dress so fancy.” he raised his brow at you, making you scoff as you shooed him away. “i mean — if the event calls for it, i will. but after this, you’ll never see me in kitten heels again if it was up to me.” you laughed, adjusting the straps of your black dress to sit more on your shoulders. roaming throughout the paddocks before races and on practice days, you had found yourself making friends with drivers simply from running into them. lando norris was one of those drivers, and now you wear the not-so-honorary title of being one of his best friends. though with lando, there were things you did that made you more than best friends: dancing in the rain, snuggling while watching a movie. there was something so romantic about it, but in your manor, you brushed it off as an act of friendship. “you look nice, though.” he sheepishly smiled, combing the curls on the top of his head back neatly. “well thank you —“ you said sincerely before checking the time, “now hurry up, we’re going to be late!”

an event held by the FIA to bring racers and race crew alike together was something you weren’t completely looking forward too. you liked your crew just enough to be alongside them, but not having to see them outside of work was sure a pleasantry. the night was spent with downing shots, doing anything to drown out the despair of being there. you didn’t think your actions would have consequences until the next morning when you found yourself waking up in an unfamiliar bed. you thought maybe it was inevitable to happen; after a few drinks, your worries and cares floated away. when you were intoxicated, you didn’t care who you were with, you didn’t care what you were doing, all you wanted to do was have fun — and fun you had as you turned around in the bed to be met with a curly headed man.

“good morning,” he smiled sheepishly, his eyes squinting to adjust to the sunlight peeking in through the windows. “good morning, danny.” you smiled softly, a tang of embarrassment lingering on your naked skin from under the blanket. daniel ricciardo was a close friend of yours. with you similar humor, it was easy to say that your personalities clashed very well together. you had always had some eyes for the driver, i mean, there was no denying he was handsome. when in groups, it’s like you two gravitated towards each other, always getting along the most. it was awkward seeing daniel in this sense, but part of you liked it. it didn’t feel as much of a stupid mistake like other drunk hookups had; this one felt comfortable. when his eyes finally adjusted to the light in the room, he smiled at you. you smiled back, a little bit of a nervous laugh falling from your lips.

you were lying if you were to say this was the last and only time you had found yourself in daniel’s bed. you would hangout, put on a movie, have drinks, and on some occasions, you’d end up in his bed. it was more friends with benefits than anything, but you couldn’t help but feel safe and respected in his presence. it was a late friday night, around ten pm, where you found yourself sitting atop danny’s lap as some disney movie played in the background. you were falling asleep gradually as time went on and was only snapped out of your tired state when you received a text message from lando.

lalando

➔ can i come over pretty please

you

im sorry lan im not home rn :(

lalando

➔ where are you?

you

GEEZ nosey much?

im at danny’s

lalando

➔ what time will you be home?

you

im not sure, i’ll lyk

you ask sooo many questions

lalando

➔ smh cut me some slack

➔ sorry i want to hangout with

my bestest friend everrr

➔ do you want me to just come

over in the morning then?

you

i don’t know when i’ll be home

im sorry lan

lalando

➔ nono its ok, don’t worry

➔ WAIT

➔ YOU DONT KNOW WHEN

YOULL BE HOME? IN THE MORNING?

➔ ARE YOU SPENDING THE NIGHT

AT DANIELS PLACE?!?!?

seen at 10:24pm

a small laugh escaped your lips as you read landos frantic confusion. you were sure he would pelt with you hundreds of questions tomorrow and you knew exactly what you had to do: deny, deny, deny. lando and your other friends always tried to pry personal information out of you: deep secrets, hookup stories — you thought it was funny. you prided yourself on being a partially opened book. people knew things about you, but not too much, and you wanted to keep it that way.

a cozy night spent at danny’s laying in bed and watching a movie was something you looked forward to. sometimes it had you questioning if you liked him. it was a funny thought, a silly one, especially considering most dates didn’t go anywhere besides the bedroom. it was basically written in ink that you and daniel were merely fuck buddies and nothing else. you two had mutual respect for each other, but that respect wasn’t enough to do anything more than just please the other. you liked it this way and so did danny. you enjoyed it, but deep down you couldn’t help but wish it was someone else. all those years you spent desperately craving a relationship now put you in a place where you didn’t care. you were young — you had to try new things — and maybe even so sleeping with a driver on a rival team would point you in the right direction.

days had went on and you found yourself once again at daniel’s house. this time he had invited you over to hangout with a few of his friends, have some drinks, and get to know each other. he swore they would like you and you used this as a way to get out of the house and meet new people. it was a bit awkward. all the others surrounded around the living area knew each other and their life stories, but you sat there out of place begging for an escape. daniel had disappeared for a bit before he resurfaced in a corner chatting up a group of guys who’s name you couldn’t remember. it didn’t matter to you though, he was enjoying himself so you simply took time to relax. a notification appeared on your phone, another text from lando, with one simple request.

lalando

➔ do you to go out for drinks tonight?

you

again IM SORRY im busy right now,

but i owe you

lalando

➔ busy doing what? daniel?

you

SHUT UP and no actually

not like i was doing him in the first place

lalando

➔ sure sure ok, lie to my face

you

geez ok, calm down lan

come over tomorrow for lunch

lalando

➔ fine, i’ll see you then

seen at 9:34pm

lando’s seemingly jealous manner had you laughing to yourself when your brain started to drift somewhere maybe it shouldn’t. you had known lando since the beginning of your career. you remember the day you full body bumped into him in the paddock, resulting in you two having a laughing fit. something from there told you that you would be good friends, but you couldn’t grasp if thats what it really was. you recalled all that you had done together: going out for dinner, having movie nights, talking about everything imaginable together. it made you question if what you had with lando was far from casual. he was your friend, but you knew friends didn’t long for each others company as he longed for yours.

pouring the sauce onto the noodles, you slid over a bowl of homemade alfredo pasta over to lando, handing him a fork to go along with it. “i feel like i’m just your personal chef now.” you spoke sarcastically, pouring a small bowl for yourself before grabbing a fork. “you would be if your cooking was better.” lando spoke plainly, shoving a bit of pasta into his mouth. “hey! that’s mean! why are you so sour, huh?” you scoffed, not thinking much of it as lando was always this sarcastic with you. “the only thing that’s sour are these noodles.” he spoke, taking yet another bite which had you staring blankly at him. “i’m obviously joking! cmon, you know i wouldn’t eat it if it was bad. you’re the best cook i know.” lando smiled over in your direction, making you sigh a little. “geez — you got me with that one. was starting to think you hated me, mr norris.” you spoke, trailing over to the bowl before picking it up and making your way over to the couch. like a sad puppy, lando grabbed his bowl and followed over, sitting himself right next to you. “i could never hate you!” “oh suuuuure—“ you laughed, placing the bowl onto the coffee table before grabbing the remote. you and lando did this several times a week. you’d order takeaway or make food, put on a tv show the two of you had been binging, and then get distracted by some irrelevant conversation between you too. it was like a cool down time from your hectic lives — some calm in the middle of a storm.

“i don’t even remember what’s happening—“ lando said mid chew, placing the empty bowl onto the coffee table. you gave him a disgusted look, one that read ‘chew before you speak’, before you responded, “it’s because last time we got distracted talking about cats.” “ok well — come here. this time we can pay attention.” lando spoke, opening his arms for you to lay into them. this sucked you back into your prior thoughts. your small hangouts — dates even — had turned into something more than they were before. “doubt that.” you muttered, letting yourself lay your head onto his lap even though you knew the consequences. you leaned your head to the side, attentively watching the show as lando chimed in every now and then to give his two-cents about what was happening. you two shared some laughs and conversations about the shows plot, but nothing off topic to get you two distracted from watching.

the last episode of season two was now coming to an end and you watched attentively to each event that occurred. you were only snapped out of your fixated reality once you noticed landos gaze had went from the tv to you. when your eyes met, you didn’t expect anything from lando until he spoke. “so what were you doing with danny last night?” he questioned, making you roll your eyes. “what happened to paying attention to the show?” you asked, dismissive of the conversation. “what did you two do? watch a movie? sleep with him?” lando spoke, completely ignoring what you had said. it made you a little upset, even though you knew he was most likely just teasing you. the tone in his voice was off, being more plain than sarcastic. “why do you care so much?” you asked, the conversation now merely banter between you two. “i don’t care — i just want to know!” lando was lying through his teeth now and you could tell. the way he delivered his words, the way he looked at you; he obviously just “didn’t care”.

“are you jealous?” the words feel from your lips so carelessly, so sharply. you didn’t know what overcame you, but something about lando being so nosey to your endeavors made you irritated. “i’m not jealous.” his words were plain and you had now sat up from your once laid down position to face him. words couldn’t form in your mouth. you didn’t know if you wanted to squeeze a confession out of him or make him speak for himself. “are you sure?” it was sort of a teasing manner that fell from your words, egging at him to speak a truth you weren’t sure you wanted to hear. “god—“ lando shot up from his seated position, making you jump back a little and look at him in confusion. “i am jealous, i am sooo fucking jealous.” his voice was louder now, loud enough for the neighbors to hear, his confession making fear grow in your friendship. “you’re all over him — always. you act all sweet and nice to me, you let me hold you — and then you fuck him. i don’t know what’s so different between him and i. i can be all the things he can be too!” “lando—“ you could barely mutter out words before he started again, his face slightly red as he spoke. “i don’t fucking care. you’re supposed to be mine.” his words stung, your lips holding back a gasp from escaping. you didnt know what to say, words not seeming to muster up from your mind. “you know what — i’ll leave. just go hangout with daniel. you’ve gotten good at that.” lando tried to leave, his hands clasping the doorknob to your apartment before you stood up. “i try to deny it, but i can’t anymore.” your words seem to catch his attention, his hand coming off the door and back to his side. “i tried to find another explanation for why i feel so safe with you; for why i always want to see you. i just plucked it up to you being my best friend, lando, but it’s not that. it’s not that anymore.” the words fell from your lips as if they were the last words you would ever say. you didn’t know what you were saying, all you knew is that you meant every word.

“you’re not making any sense.” lando spoke. he looked defeated, exhausted, like he was itching to get out of his skin. “i’m saying that i’m falling in love you with.” you didn’t tell lando what he wanted to hear, you told him what you wanted to say. a feeling of insecurity having nagged at you for a long time had finally become too much to handle; too hard to admit. you knew in your industry and position that you probably shouldn’t be saying these things; you knew you should have gotten out of the water before it got too deep — yet something about lando was like an anchor that had you sinking.

there was a long pause before any other words were said. it could have been a few seconds or a few minutes, you didn’t know. the quick pace of your heart beating had time moving so slow. lando approached you, now close enough to feel his shallowed breathing on your skin. “i’m sorry—“ it’s like he broke down, his voice brittle and hoarse. all you wanted to do was comfort him, but now the confident words that you had spoken so passionately couldn’t come out. “no, lan, it’s okay—“ you pulled him into a hug, resting your head into the crook of his neck as he seemingly cried. “i just couldn’t stand seeing him with you like that — i should have told you sooner. i shouldnt have yelled at you. i just don’t like the idea that he got to you hold like i do. i shouldn’t even be jealous, you aren’t even mine.” his arms wrapped loosely around your waist as he pulled back, red eyes with tears threatening to spill. “i know, i know — but it’s all okay now because i like you. i was too blind to see that what i had been looking for was right here the whole time. i feel stupid, but it’s okay, it’s what makes us human.” you tried to smile, it was what was needed at a time like this, and lando did his best to return it.

what was once a rival, a friend, a shoulder to cry on; anything but a lover, had now blossomed into something you had fought for so long. the pain of searching in every nook and cranny had now met you face to face with the hidden treasure you tried so hard to look for. “i love you—“ it was the mutter in the silence, the dark in the light, and you couldn’t help but feel like you found what you were looking for.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: have a great friday, dudes.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Maris Street. You rarely go that way. It’s near the core of the town, closer to the west end where green hedges and white picket fences cordon off the suburban elite from the commoners like you. It suits him, doesn’t it? You assume this is what he’s used to. 

The venom roils in your gut as you approach Oxford Drive. You stop before the sleek grey exterior. The black trims and large golden moniker in all caps add to the extravagant effect. Flowers boxes stand outside the windows that glow amber with rich ambience from within. The nicest place you ever went was the Korean Barbecue your dorm mate dragged you to; this is well beyond that. 

You take a breath and look down at yourself. You’re still wearing the black jeans and plain tee you sport for your job. Former job. Your beat-up sneakers perfectly match your thrifted aesthetic and the purse strap twisted around your hand and wrist frays as if to assure everyone that you don’t belong. 

You go to the front door and pull it open. You step inside to the low drone of stringy music and the subtle clink of glasses amid the low murmur of voices. You chew your lip as you approach the tall round desk where the hostess stands over the open reservation book, like some mystical keeper of scrolls. How very Skyrim of her. 

She gives you a look, one you expect. You sniff and cross your arms, the strap of your purse further straining your circulation. You exhale and peek over at the dining room. 

“Hi, I um...” your cheeks pinch as you find it difficult to speak. “I’m meeting someone.” 

“You are?" Her skepticism drips from her voice, “are you certain they’re... here?” 

“Yeah. I don’t know if he made a reservation or whatever. Obviously, I’m not a regular,” you snipe back. You’re too exasperated to hold back. You don’t need her judging you too. “Older, beard, uh, tall... Andy Barber. Is he in the book?” 

She flutters her pretty lashes and looks down. You watch her. She’s a few years older than you. Tall, balayaged hair, slender, perfectly bowed lips. What about her? Or someone like her? Why wouldn’t he want that instead? Why is he bothering you? 

“Barber,” she nods, “yes, he’s here.” 

She seems surprised by that. She steps out from behind the desk and tells you to follow. You obey. You have to. This is all just pulling teeth. He has you toothless already. 

You keep your head down as you trail behind her. You only look up as you sense a figure on the other side of her. Andy stands as you approach and you nearly choke. You want so bad to just turn around and run away. 

A line deepens in his forehead and disappears. He smiles as the hostess waves you forward. He comes around to pull out the other chair before you can. You retract your arm and barely withhold your frustration. Can’t he understand you want nothing from him? 

You sit stiff and fix your bag in your lap, slowly unwinding the strap from your wrist. The hostess promises a server will be with you soon and struts away. You stare at the table cloth and as Andy sits, darkening the edge of your vision, you turn to glare at the far wall. 

You feel even more demeaned sitting there in your jeans in tea among the crystal and tall-stemmed lilies. The tinkle of the soft woodwind music makes your head buzz yet the smell of the food teases your empty stomach. Your eyes drift to a group of older women, laughing over wine, a symbol of what you’ll never be. Happy. Free. 

“Thanks for meeting me. I guess you’ve never been here before,” Andy begins. 

You shake your head and flick your eyes to the ceiling. You grit down on his words. Why is he acting like this is normal? 

“Nice place, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” you snap and look at him directly, nearly growling in his face, “very nice. Upscale. Well above me.” 

You cross your arms and sit back, your purse strap still loosely clinging to your wrist. His chest rises and he exhales through his nose. He leans forward and his cheek ticks. 

“I brought you here for dinner, so we could talk, get to know each other--” 

“That’s not what I’m here for,” you insist, almost teary-eyed from your rage. You don’t like being angry. You’ve never been very good at and more times, you end up blubbering. “Kara, my friend--” 

He tilts his chin up and sets his gaze firmly on you, “we’ll get to that.” 

“No, now,” you hiss. 

He huffs through his nose. He looks around, silently chewing his agitation. He sits up and replaces that manufactured smile as a server approaches. 

“Good evening, can I get you started with drinks?” He asks, his dark shirt finely pressed and buttoned to the very top. 

“No thank--” you begin. 

“We’ll take a bottle of cabernet,” Andy interjects, “for the table. Oh, and could we get some fresh bread. This has been sitting out.” 

The server acquiesces and takes the basket as Andy hands over the wine menu. You barely keep from rolling your eyes. You’re not here to eat and drink and be merry. Kara is quite possibly behind bars. 

You glare at him and wait. The server leaves as you keep your arms folded, fingers clamped tightly. He looks at you as if there’s nothing wrong. As if this is all normal. 

“I want to know what’s going to happen to Kara. You said you can help--” 

“I can,” he says casually, “so let’s have a nice dinner and then I’ll do just that.” 

“But she’s--” 

“They’ll have her in holding, question her, then they’ll have to figure out charges, yada, yada,” he explains, “don’t worry, I’ll give them a call after, tell them my client is invoking her right to an attorney.” 

Your chest thumps and your ears ring. He’s so confident. He already knows you can’t say no. Not to him or this dinner. You have to sit there and celebrate his victory that came with your defeat. It’s not right. It’s... it’s... deranged. 

“Why?” You croak. 

“Why?” He shakes his head. 

“Why are you doing this? Why me? Why not someone... someone you can relate to? Someone your age?” 

“Why you? You’re perfect, sweetheart. Perfect for me,” he coos, “come on, we get along. We did. I know I messed things up but it can’t change that we had fun. We did, didn’t we?” 

You swallow and shrug. Those nights you stayed up and mined or raced or whatever, they were fun, they were nights you look forward to. But every single one was a lie. 

“Sure, but... what if I’d lied to you? What if I wasn’t me? What if I was some guy in a basement--” 

“You weren’t.” 

“But what if--” 

“I know you weren’t.” 

“How could you know--” 

“I just did. You’re so genuine, so... kind, that can’t be fake,” he insists. 

You sink down, slumping your shoulders, and look away. What can you do? You’re exactly where you never wanted to be. With less options. With none. 

“What do you want from me?” Your dry mouth crackles around your words. 

He’s quiet as the server returns. He sits back and you lift your chin as you watch the server uncork the bottle. He pours the wine and Andy asks for a few more minutes with the menu. Again, you have no appetite. 

When you’re alone again, Andy takes a breath and shifts in his chair. He brings his hands together, pinching his left ring finger as if he’s missing something. He quickly pulls his hands apart. 

“You. That’s all I want,” he breathes. 

You stare at him. You don’t understand. Maybe it’s because you don’t want to. If you keep denying it, it might not be the very idea that makes your skin crawl. 

He reaches for his glass of wine and holds it out. You stare at it, then look him in the face. You can’t wipe the horror from your face. 

“Cheers to us, sweetheart,” he says, “me and you.” 

You shake your head as he waits. Slowly you take the glass before you and raise it. He clinks the crystal between you. 

“It’s the first day of the rest of our lives,” he declares, “we can both build the home we always wanted. Together.” 

🎮

Andy pays the bill as you wallow in futility. This is it. Your life is over. All because of one mistake. All because you trusted the wrong person. 

He stands first and you follow. He grabs the to-go box of the food you barely touched. You’re in such a fog, you can barely think. He gestures you towards the door as he nudges you with the box. You hug your purse to your stomach and walk between the tables. 

The cool night air wakes you up. As you come to the sidewalk, you stop. You turn back to him and wet your mouth, a hint of wine on your tongue. 

“Call. Right now,” your voice shakes. 

“What’s going on, sweetheart?” He inclines his head as if he doesn’t understand. 

“The police. Call. You said you would help Kara,” you insist. 

His brow arches and he nods. He holds out the container and you take it stiffly, letting your purse dangle from your shoulder. He pulls out his phone as he stares at you. Finally, he looks down and scrolls. He clears his throat before he puts it to his ear. 

“Hi, yes, this is Andy Barber, I’m an attorney for a woman in your custody. Yes, I do.” You listen to the piecemeal conversation, “name is Kara Orascio. Yes, she won’t be talking to the police any longer. That’s correct.” He pauses and listens intently, “I’m out of town but I can be there tomorrow. Sure.” 

He hangs up as his eyes cling to you still.  

“So, looks like we need to pack,” he says. 

“What?” You utter. 

“Don’t you want to see your friend?” He challenges. 

“Well, yes, but I thought you--” 

“I’m not coming back here again. So, you’re coming. We’ll deal with your friend’s charges then we’ll go home.” 

You blink, “home?” 

“Sure, sweetheart, I got it all ready for you,” he turns down the sidewalk and takes your hand. 

You have the urge to rip your hand out of his. You want to tell him not to touch you. You want to scream and run away. You don’t because you want to save Kara more. 

“I meant what I said before. I can get you into school down there,” he guides you along, “you’ll like it. It's close to Boston. Place called Nelson. You ever been to Massachusetts?” 

“Hm, no, didn’t travel much.” 

“That’s okay. We can do some of that too. Still got lots of summer left. We could go somewhere sunny,” he drawls, “you know, it gets gloomy in the fall so we may as well enjoy it while we can.” 

“Sure,” you murmur. 

Your feet are heavy, your head too, every part of you just wants to give up. Haven’t you? Isn’t that what this is? You surrender.  

“You okay, sweetheart?” He stops and lets go of you, fishing around in his pocket. 

“I’m...” your vision narrows in; just like the moment you first met him. As Andy. As the real him. As the twisted man you just sold your soul to. “...tired.” 

“Aw, yeah, well, it’s been a long few days. For both of us. You wanna come back to my hotel. The bed’s really cozy and the tub is deep. You could relax for the night before we gotta get on the road,” he offers. 

You shake your head, “n-no,” you stutter. The last thing you want to do is be alone behind closed doors with him. “You said... pack. I should... do that.” 

“Ah, I did. Alright, I’ll take you to your grandma’s. I’ll have to come early so we can get to your friend.” 

“Right,” you agree coarsely. 

“Trust me. I know how to handle cops,” he chuckles and pulls out his keys, unlocking the car right beside you. He opens the door and steps back, “I’ll call ahead. Get us a room as there too. I guess you’re going to want to catch up with your friend while we’re there. Might be a while before you see her again.” 

You wince and look at him. A while. You look around at the street lights. You’re not unhappy. Leaving this place doesn’t matter to you but leaving Kara, possibly forever, that’s a knife in the chest. But forever is easier if you know she’s okay. If you know she doesn’t pay for your stupidity. 

You nod and get in the car. You can’t speak. If you even try, you’ll bawl. The end is there, you feel it closing you in with the car door. 

[lexisecretaccx]

I miss the man you were - M.S

Masterlist!

(Femreader x Matt Sturniolo, angst, sad, arguing and hateful words, toxic relationship, I know Matt wouldn’t be like this irl just a story, emotional. )

Summary: after Matt and y/n’s one year anniversary, his behaviour changes and he becomes ignorant and cold..

The flowers, the jewellery, the little love notes, the cute dates and every single kind gesture.. was for nothing?

I wish I knew what I did wrong, at first he was having a “bad week” then a bad week turned into a bad month, and now it’s a been 5 months and he’s still in a bad mood. It’s not just a bad mood anymore, he’s taking it out on me, the hugs have turned into a pat on the shoulder, the loving kisses into an emotionless peck on the cheek, etc.

“I love you” is three words I’ve heard about 10 times in the past 5 months, from my boyfriend. It used to seem like he meant it but now it feels like he’s doing it just because he has to. I wish he’d talk with me instead of leaving me with sleepless nights wondering what the fuck is going on. Every time I try to talk to him I get fobbed off with an “I’m busy right now”.

That brings us to now.

“Matt please.” I practically beg him for an ounce of attention, attention I should be getting as his girlfriend. “Matthew please baby.” My eyes tear up and I choke on a cry.

“Give me a minute won’t you?” He coldly replies, texting on his phone. “No I won’t give you a fucking minute!” I yell, his eyes snap up to me. My eyes cloudy from tears that are fighting to fall from my eyes.

“What then!” He yells back, “what is so important that I can’t get a fucking minute to reply to a text from my brother?!” He stands up and walks to me. “Hm??” He gets close to me.

“Do you hate me?” I look up at him as the tears spill from my eyes. He scoffs, “what?” crossing his arms, “you fucking heard me Matt.” I wipe my eyes, only spreading the salty tears across my cheek as they continue to fall.

“I don’t hate you, don’t be paranoid.” He huffs and turns around, I grab his arm lightly. “Then why do you make me feel like shit?” I speak quietly. He turns quickly, shaking my hand off of him. He shrugs, “If I make you feel like shit then leave.” He swallows harshly. “I can’t.” I sob. He rolls his eyes, “why?”

Not one part of him wants to comfort me right now, I’m a mess infront of him. “I love you Matt! But right now I wish I fucking didn’t.” I raise my voice. “Then stop loving me y/n!” He hisses, his eyebrows knitting together, “I can’t Matt and I’m sorry if my love is such a burden to you.” I push past him and go to walk to the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” He shouts, following me. “To kill myself.” I lie, I just want him to fucking care. “You wouldn’t do that y/n, you care about me too much.” He scoffs, I turn around quickly and walk right up to him, “Not. Every. Thing. Is. About. You.” I grit my teeth, poking him in the chest with every word.

He looks offended, “Y/n.” He sighs, “No! I just can’t deal with this bullshit.” My voice cracks and I turn back to walk to the bathroom, “You know why? You know why you can’t deal with this shit?” He asks me, “Oh fucking enlighten me!” I command, “Because you’re a sensitive, whiny, pathetic little girl.” He spits.

I stop walking for a minute to process the words that just left his fucking mouth, I shake my head and walk up to the bathroom door, slamming and locking it behind me.

He pounds on the door, “open the door.” I ignore him and just sit on the floor my back on the door. “You’re just proving my point.” He gets more aggressive. I stay silent. “Y/n?” His tone softens, “Open the door.. please?” He speaks with a sense of worry.

“Y/n, open the door.” He has a slight growl in his voice. I stay silent again, pretending I can’t hear him, “y/n?” He whispers against the door. I hear him slide down the door and sit in front of it.

If the door wasn’t in the way we’d be back to back. I hear a light cry or something from the other side, “Who’s sensitive now?” I chuckle but deep down I’m breaking inside.

“Fuck you. You were begging me to care and when I did you make a snarky remark? Fuck you.” He yells. “Just fucking leave me alone!” I scream, as tears pour down my cheeks and drip onto my legs. “If you wanted my attention you fucking have it now.” He elbows the door.

“Why are you like this?” I lighten my tone, my voice wobbling. “I’m just me y/n.” He replies, “No you aren’t Matt, I miss you.” I bury my head in my hands, “how can you miss me? I’m right here?” He scoffs, “I miss the man you were.. not you now.” I trembled.

No answer, “what did I do? Please tell me.” I ask him, and I hear a loud sigh from the other side of the door. “Come out, please.” That’s all he says, but I want an answer so if this is how then I’ll do it.

I stand up and open the door, he’s getting up off the floor and he turns around to me, tears stained his cheeks. He.. cried?

My face softens at his sad expression, I tilt my head, expecting him to explain. He swallows gently just staring at me, my puffy face, red eyes and smudges makeup. “Fuck.” He whispers.

Before I can reply he pulls me in for a hug, the force knocking us to the ground but he doesn’t notice, wrapping his arms around me as if he never wanted to let go, burying his head in my shoulder and sighing deeply, after a few seconds I hug him back. I could swear I heard him cry.

As we sit on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor his arms still tightly around me, I stroke his head as his cries get louder. Even after everything that went on just now I still love him, he’s a broken soul.

Something must’ve happened to cause him to withdraw from me, “I fucking hate myself y/n.” His voice muffled because of my shoulder, I sigh, “I wish I could hate you right now baby but I can’t.” My voice is brittle.

“I’ll get help, I’ll go to therapy, I’ll make it all up to you I’m such a horrible person I should’ve never treated you like that.” He pleads, “it’s already happened, let’s just focus on now.” I comfort him, even though it still hurts from his words I can tell he’s hating himself right now.

“Don’t excuse my actions, I’m fucking awful.” He lifts his head from my shoulder and lets go of me, so now we’re sitting inches apart on the cold floor.

“It’ll be okay.”

“Will it?”

A/n: I’m crying bro, I just wanted to make a really sad and angst fanfic and I guess I did that. This is just a one shot so don’t be expecting any more parts sorry y’all😭😭 I listened to a sad playlist while writing this✌️😘 sigh. Also two fics in one day 😚

@blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @mattybslover @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @bueckerslover @fratbrochrisgf @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @certifiednatelover @freshsturns @riasturns @sturniololvrrr @maryx2xx @whicked-hazlatwhore @cammie4298 @sturnsjtop @sturnzblog @chr1sgirl4life @evie-sturns @milasturniolo @jaxyy219 @mattsturniolosbae @h3arts4harry @littlebookworm803 @realqueenofpepsi @elsxz1 @jnkvivi

[leona-hawthorne]

OUR DREAMS / mattheo riddle

mattheo riddle x fem reader

summary: fate worked against you, forcing you to break your promise to never leave his side.

warnings: angst, war (battle of hogwarts— brief), death, grief, funeral, suicide, swearing. this is just a lot of heavy material so please read at your own risk. nothing here is being romanticized— remember this is all fiction.

words: 4.2k + a bonus of 1.2k (it’s a long one!)

a/n: this one took a while icl

navigation mattheo riddle masterlist

ONE YEAR AGO:

The small bathroom in Mattheo's dorm was dimly lit, casting a soft glow over the white tiles. The air was thick with tension, mingled with the metallic scent of blood and the sharp tang of antiseptic. You sat on the sink counter, your legs dangling over the edge, while Mattheo stood between them, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. His shirt was discarded somewhere on the floor, revealing the fresh wounds that marred his skin. The mirror behind you reflected the tension in his eyes, the fire that never seemed to extinguish.

He was desperate to kiss you as his hands gently cupped your thighs. His eyes followed your every movement, the fluorescent light casting shadows across your face.

It wasn’t surprising that the boy had gotten into yet another fight, but you couldn’t help but be a little disappointed. Still, you’d help him with his cuts and bruises, of course. It’s not like you wanted to see him all black and blue. Your relationship with him was complicated. Your arrangement was supposed to be just a means of release, of physicality, nothing but two friends helping each other out, but honestly, you didn’t know where the line between friends and lovers was drawn.

Mattheo's jaw clenched as you dabbed at a particularly nasty cut on his side, the silence between you growing heavier with each passing second. He let out a frustrated sigh, breaking the stillness.

"You always do this," he muttered, his voice low and edged with frustration.

"Do what? Help you?" you shot back, meeting his gaze with a stubborn intensity.

"Yeah. I don’t need your help."

You rolled your eyes, not backing down. "Well, too bad. You’re gonna get it anyway."

He grumbled something under his breath, his movements more agitated. "I could’ve done it myself."

"We both know damn well you wouldn’t try to clean a single one of these cuts and they’d have ended up infected," you retorted, a hint of exasperation in your voice.

His gaze flickered to you, irritation simmering in his dark eyes. "Whatever."

A heavy silence fell between you again, the only sound the faint dripping of water from the faucet. You watched him carefully, the way his fingers moved along your thighs with practiced ease despite the tension in his muscles. The dim light cast shadows over his handsome features, highlighting the hard lines of his face and the anger that seemed to perpetually simmer beneath the surface.

You let out a sigh, placing the cloth aside for a moment. "Mattheo, you can’t solve all your problems with your fists."

"Why do you care?" he snapped, his gaze flicking back to you, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"Do you think I like seeing you this way? All fucked up and bloodied?" you shot back, frustration creeping into your voice.

"It’s none of your business," he replied, his voice cold and distant.

"It is my business. I care about you, Mattheo. You know that," you insisted, leaning forward slightly, trying to bridge the gap between you.

"Oh, you’re such a saint, aren’t you? You’re so damn perfect. You probably love seeing me like this just so you can help me, don’t you? Make you feel good about yourself, yeah?" he spat, his words dripping with bitterness.

"Mattheo, why are you being like this?"

"Y/N, I don’t fucking need your fake love or your sympathy. We’re using each other, alright? Don’t give me this fake shit when you know damn well I don’t matter that much to you," he said, his eyes dark and stormy.

"It’s not fake, Mattheo! I care about you. Why can’t you just accept that?" you pleaded, your hands gripping the edge of the sink tightly.

"Because. It’s not that easy."

"Why?! We’re friends, aren’t we?" you asked, your voice almost breaking.

"No," he said, his tone final and resolute.

"No?" you echoed, your heart sinking at his words.

Heavy silence hung in the air as you stared at each other, the tension thick and suffocating. Mattheo swallowed, gathering the nerve to speak again.

"We’re not fucking friends, Y/N. We stopped being friends the second you let me kiss you," he said, his voice low and filled with a raw intensity that made your breath catch.

"Then what the hell are we doing, Mattheo? Wasn’t this supposed to be no strings attached? What the hell is going through your head?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You wanna know the fucking truth, Y/N?” He grumbled through gritted teeth.

“That’s all I’ve been asking for.”

Silence hung heavy in the air between you. Beneath the burning hot anger in his eyes, there was a raw vulnerability, and it took a moment for you to process it. You reached up, your fingers gently brushing against his cheek, avoiding the fresh wounds.

He nodded vigorously, taking a deep breath to prepare for what he was about to confess. He swallowed hard, pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek in frustration. "I’m falling for you, Y/N. And I’m fucking terrified that you’re gonna end up walking away from me if I let you in."

The reality of his unfiltered words hit you with the force of a tidal wave, leaving you struggling to stay afloat.

His eyes softened, vulnerability peeking through the cracks of his hardened exterior. "I don’t know how to do this shit," he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. "I don’t know how to let someone in without pushing them away."

The confession hung in the air between you, heavy and charged. You could see the fear in his eyes, the vulnerability that he tried so hard to hide behind his tough exterior. Your heart ached for him, for the boy who had always been so strong, yet so fragile underneath it all.

So, you decided actions speak louder than words and you leaned in, brushing your lips against his before placing a soft, tender kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"You don’t have to do it alone," you murmured softly, reaching out to cup his cheek, feeling the roughness of his stubble against your palm. "We can figure it out together. Just… don’t shut me out."

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes as if savoring the moment. "I don’t deserve you," he muttered, his voice thick with emotion.

"That’s not for you to decide," you replied softly. "Just let me be here for you. Let me care about you."

He opened his eyes, searching your face for any sign of insincerity. Finding none, he exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly.

"Okay," he said finally, his voice barely audible.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before meeting your gaze again. "Promise me that you won’t leave me. Not after this and not any other time you see me getting hurt. Promise me you’ll always stick around."

"I promise," you whispered, your voice shaky but sincere. "I’m not going anywhere, Mattheo."

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours, and for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, he deserved to be cared for.

If only he’d known of the dark future that awaited the two of you.

PRESENT:

The war had raged on longer than anyone had expected. It was a dark time for everyone, filled with pain, loss, and the constant shadow of fear. Yet, amidst the chaos, you had found a sanctuary in each other. Mattheo had always been a complex soul, but you had seen the light in him, the flicker of goodness that he had desperately tried to hide from the world.

You had made a promise to each other on a night when the stars were the only witnesses to your vows. It was in the abandoned courtyard of Hogwarts, far from the prying eyes of the others, that you had pledged your hearts. You promised you would never leave his side, no matter what fate awaited you both.

As the days turned to weeks, and the weeks to months, the war took its toll. Mattheo fought valiantly, his heart a fortress of determination. But every battle, every loss, chipped away at that fortress. And then, that fateful night came.

He had been in the thick of the fight, his wand a blur of deflected curses and hexes. He had always been a formidable opponent, but even the strongest warriors have their weaknesses.

His was you.

In the corner of his eye, he saw you fall, your body crumpling to the ground. The world seemed to slow, the sounds of the battle fading into a distant roar as he ran to you.

"Y/N!" His voice was hoarse, desperate. He dropped to his knees beside you, cradling your head in his lap. Blood stained your robes, a stark contrast against the pale moonlight. Your eyes fluttered open, and you gave him a weak smile.

"I'm sorry, Mattheo," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the cacophony around you. "I tried..."

"Shh," he whispered, his heart breaking with every labored breath you took. “Fuck. Don't speak, baby. Just stay with me. Please."

You reached up, your hand trembling, to touch his cheek. "I love you," you said, the words filled with a lifetime of emotions. "So much, Matty."

Before he could respond, before he could tell you how much he needed you, how much he loved you, your hand fell limp, your eyes closing for the last time. He screamed your name, a raw, primal sound that echoed through the battlefield.

Days turned into a blur of grief and anger. He felt like a ghost, drifting through the remnants of his life without you. He wandered the broken halls of Hogwarts, the memories of your laughter haunting every corner. He found himself at the courtyard where you had made your promise, the stars indifferent to his pain.

He knelt on the cold stone, his tears falling freely. "You promised," he whispered into the night, his voice breaking. "You promised you'd never leave me."

You were so close to peace. The war was ending, you’d almost made it out together, but you were stolen from him and he couldn’t help the rage that bubbled within him at the unjust ending of your beautiful soul.

The wind carried his words away, the silence his only response. He looked up at the sky, the stars twinkling as if mocking him. "I was supposed to marry you," he said, his voice louder now, filled with anger and sorrow. "We were supposed to have a life together!"

But no matter how many times he shouted, no matter how many tears he shed, you were gone. The war had taken you from him, and with you, it had taken his heart.

In the end, all he had left were the memories of your love, the ghost of your touch, and the shattered pieces of the promises you had made. The second Wizarding World War had claimed many lives, but none as precious to him as yours.

And so, Mattheo Riddle was left to wander the ruins of his heart, forever haunted by the loss of the one person who had ever truly seen him, who had ever truly loved him.

The day of your funeral arrived with a heaviness that seemed to permeate the very air. The sky was overcast, gray clouds hanging low as if the heavens themselves mourned your passing. Mattheo stood at the edge of the graveyard, the stark black of his robes blending into the gloom of the overcast sky, his heart a leaden weight in his chest. He felt numb, the world around him muted and distant.

A small crowd had gathered, friends, family, and comrades from the war, but all he could focus on was the void where you should have been. To Mattheo, they were mere shadows, their sorrow a distant echo compared to the roaring agony within him.

People had gathered to pay their respects, their faces somber and tear-streaked. Friends and family stood in solemn silence as the service began. Mattheo could barely hear the words of the officiant, his mind consumed by memories of you.

The way you laughed, the way your eyes sparkled with mischief, your gentle touch, the way you had looked at him as if he were the only person in the world. He remembered the night you had promised each other forever, your eyes shining with love and certainty, the way you had held him close on those cold nights when the war seemed never-ending. He clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms as he fought to keep his composure.

The eulogy was a blur, words drifting past him without meaning. He couldn't bear to listen, couldn't bear to accept that this was real. His eyes were fixed on your casket, a cold and lifeless vessel that could never hold the warmth of your spirit. You looked peaceful, as if merely sleeping, but he knew better. The light that had danced in your eyes was gone forever You had somehow, stupidly made him believe in a future where love could triumph over darkness. Now, you’re fucking dead. How was that any fair?

He stood apart from the crowd, not out of choice, but because the grief was too overwhelming to share. His eyes followed the procession as your casket was carried forward, draped in a beautiful white cloth. It was impossible to believe that you were in there, so still, so silent.

In his hand, he clutched a simple, silver ring. It had been meant for you, a symbol of the life you were supposed to share. He had carried it with him through every battle, every moment of doubt, a promise of a future he now knew would never come to pass.

He walked forward, each step heavier than the last. The closer he got, the more real it became. The finality of it all crashed over him like a tidal wave. He stopped at the foot of your grave, looking down at the polished wood. His throat tightened, his vision blurring with tears he refused to shed.

As they lowered you into the ground, Mattheo felt his legs give way. He dropped to his knees, the pain of losing you crashing over him in relentless waves. He clutched at the grass, the earth beneath his fingers feeling both real and surreal.

He stood by your grave, watching as the earth swallowed the last physical connection he had to you.

He had written a letter to you, a final goodbye that he clutched in his hand. It was crumpled and tear-stained, but it held all the words he had never been able to say. With trembling hands, he reached forward and placed it gently on top of your casket.

"I love you, Y/N," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I always will. I'm sorry I couldn't keep you safe. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."

His tears fell freely now, mingling with the dirt. He wanted to stay there forever, to be close to you in some way, even if it was just a grave. He could feel the eyes of others on him, their pity and their sympathy, but it meant nothing. Nothing could fill the void you had left behind.

People began to approach him, offering their condolences. He nodded mechanically, his mind far away. It wasn't until the crowd began to disperse that he finally allowed himself to step forward.

As the ceremony drew to a close, people began to drift away, leaving him alone with his grief. He stayed long after the others had gone, the sky darkening above him. The first drops of rain began to fall, soft and cold against his skin.

He traced the letters of your name on the gravestone, the finality of it all sinking in. "We were supposed to get married," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the rain. "We were supposed to have a life together. I don't know how to do this without you."

The silence was deafening. He closed his eyes, trying to remember the sound of your laughter, the feel of your hand in his, but it felt like trying to grasp smoke. The memories were there, but they were slipping away, replaced by the harsh reality of your absence.

His hand clenched into a fist, gripping the earth as if he could hold onto you through sheer force of will. "I was supposed to protect you," he said, his voice filled with self-recrimination. "I was supposed to keep you safe. I failed you."

He closed his eyes, letting the rain mix with his tears. He could almost feel your presence beside him, a phantom touch that was both comforting and cruel. He would carry you with him always, in his heart and in his memories, but it would never be enough.

The wind rustled the leaves overhead, a soft, mournful sound. He looked up, his eyes scanning the sky as if searching for a sign, a glimpse of you. But there was nothing.

"I don't know how to say goodbye," he whispered. "I don't want to say goodbye."

The weight of the finality of your death crushed him, and for the first time since you had died, he allowed himself to truly cry. He wept for the future you had lost, the love you would never share, and the promises you would never keep.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the graveyard, Mattheo rose to his feet. He looked down at your grave one last time, his heart aching with the loss. "Goodbye, Y/N," he said softly. "Rest in peace, my love." Before standing, he placed a single, white lily on the fresh soil, a symbol of the pure, untainted love you’d blessed him with.

With a heavy heart, he turned and walked away, each step a reminder of the life you had planned together, the life that had been cruelly stolen by the war. The future stretched out before him, an endless road of sorrow and longing, and he had no idea how he was going to conquer it without you by his side.

He stumbled to his car, and started driving to a place that only you two knew about, a place that held memories of you together. Tears blurred his vision and he wiped them away with his sleeve, the fabric damp against his cheeks.

Mattheo's hands tightened around the steering wheel as he navigated the familiar turns that led to the cliff overlooking the water. The memories flooded his mind with every passing mile, memories of laughter, of whispered promises, of stolen moments beneath the starlit sky. His heart ached with every beat, the pain of losing you still raw and unrelenting.

Mattheo can only hope that he'll see you in the afterlife, because right now he cannot fathom being alive without his lioness.

His knuckles turned white, his grip strong around the steering wheel as he drove through the winding roads, the path almost instinctual. The car's engine hummed, the only sound breaking the heavy silence that enveloped him. He wiped his tears with the sleeve of his jacket, his vision blurred but his destination clear in his mind.

He was heading to the place that had been your sanctuary, your escape from the world. It was a secluded cliff overlooking the ocean, a spot you had discovered together and claimed as their own. The memories of stolen kisses and whispered promises haunted him, every twist and turn of the road a painful reminder of what he had lost. The memories felt like shards of glass, cutting into his already shattered, bloodless husk of a heart.

The car finally came to a stop as he arrived at the precipice overlooking the water, the sunset you painted absolutely beautiful, and he sat there for a moment, gathering his strength. He inhaled a shaky breath, trying to compose himself. But grief gripped him like a vice, refusing to let go. How could he go on without you? How could he face a world that no longer held your light?

With a heavy sigh, Mattheo stepped out of the car. The wind whipped around him, carrying the scent of salt and memories of happier times. He walked slowly to the edge of the cliff, the ground uneven beneath his feet. The waves crashed against the rocks below, a tumultuous echo of his own emotions.

The wind hit him with a force that almost made him stumble and the waves crashed violently against the rocks below, their relentless power a stark contrast to the fragile state of his heart.

The breeze was strong, tugging at his clothes and whipping through his hair, but he barely noticed. He stood at the edge, looking out at the horizon where the sea met the sky. The last time they had been here, you had laughed and danced in the wind, your spirit free and wild. He had called you his lioness, admiring your strength and courage. Now, the wind seemed to mock him with its emptiness.

The pain was overwhelming, a crushing weight that made it hard to breathe. He closed his eyes, letting the memories wash over him. He could see you, hear your laughter, feel your touch. The ache in his chest deepened, the emptiness consuming him.

"I can't do this," he said, his voice trembling. "I can't go on without you."

"I hope I'll see you in the afterlife," he murmured, his heart breaking with each word. "Because right now, I can't fathom being alive without you."

The thought of reuniting with you someday gave him a sliver of solace, a tiny fragment of hope to cling to. But it did little to alleviate the overwhelming sorrow that consumed him in this moment.

As he stood there, teetering on the edge, he took a deep breath, the salty air filling his lungs. He remembered the nights they had spent here, the dreams they had shared, the future they had planned. It was all gone, reduced to nothing but a mere dream.

The wind still whipped around him, but it no longer felt like a force of despair. It was a reminder of your spirit, wild and untamed, a part of him forever.

"I'll join you, my beautiful girl," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the roar of the wind and the sea. Tears streamed down his cheeks, unabated now, mingling with the salty spray. He looked out across the water, searching for solace in the vast expanse of the horizon. He closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment to imagine you beside him, your hand in his once more.

The ache in his chest was unbearable, a physical manifestation of the void you had left behind. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver ring, complemented by a beautiful diamond. He clutched it in his palm, holding it against his heart.

The sky was a canvas of shifting clouds, tinged with hues of orange and pink as the sun began its descent. It was a sight you both had cherished, moments spent in quiet awe of the beauty that surrounded you. Now, the beauty seemed cruel, a stark reminder of everything he had lost.

Mattheo closed his eyes, letting the memories wash over him like the crashing waves below. He remembered the warmth of your smile, the strength in your embrace, the way you had always believed in him even when he couldn't believe in himself.

"I love you," he said aloud, his words a whisper against the wind. "I'll love you for eternity."

With a deep breath, he stepped closer to the edge, his heart heavy with grief but resolute in his decision. The waves continued to crash against the rocks below, a tumultuous symphony that echoed the turmoil in his soul. He closed his eyes one final time, a tear slipping down his cheek, before taking a step forward.

In that moment, the wind seemed to soften, as if nature itself held its breath. Mattheo felt weightless, suspended between earth and sky, between life and death. His thoughts were of you, of the life you had planned together, and the love that would never fade. The wind caught his hair as he fell, the world around him fading into a blur of memories and regrets.

As he plummeted towards the crashing waves below, he closed his eyes, imagining that he would soon be reunited with you. The pain in his heart would finally be eased, and together, you would find peace in the afterlife.

As he fell, he felt a fleeting sense of peace wash over him, the hope that in the next life, he would find you waiting. And as the ocean embraced him, swallowing him whole, he knew that even in death, your love would be his guiding light. He’s not alone, or scared, or in pain.

And in that moment, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the world grew dark around him, Mattheo found solace in the belief that love transcends even death itself.

Together, you would rest in eternity, bound by a love that not even death could tear asunder.

BONUS: HIS LETTER.

To my beautiful, beautiful Y/N Riddle,

I don't know where to begin, or if words will ever be enough to express the depths of my love for you and the agony that now fills my heart. It feels like only yesterday when we first met at Hogwarts, two young souls unaware of the future that awaited us.

I remember the first time I saw you, how your smile lit up the room and warmed even the coldest corners of my soul. I was drawn to you in a way I never thought possible. But I was so afraid, Y/N. Afraid to open up, afraid to let someone see the darkness that has always consumed me. You broke through those walls with such ease, with such compassion and understanding, that I couldn’t help but fall in love with you.

You made me believe in love, in a future where happiness and peace were not just distant fantasies but achievable realities. We talked about our dreams, about a life together filled with laughter and love, with children who would know nothing of the darkness we faced during the war.

Do you remember our dreams, Y/N? The plans we made under the stars, whispering of a future where we would be together always? The quiet evenings we spent planning our future, weaving our hopes into a tapestry of promises and vows? I can still hear your laughter, see the sparkle in your eyes as you spoke of the life we would build together.

We dreamed of a home filled with laughter and love, of a life where we would grow old together, hand in hand. I never wanted children before I met you. Now, I think I would’ve wanted a daughter, but a boy would’ve been nice too. We’d have two or maybe three beautiful kids. They’d probably have my curly hair and I’d have wanted them to have your vibrant eyes.

But before that, I’d move you away from all the chaos. It would’ve just been you and me out in the countryside, quiet and far from the drama. Like the Weasleys’. I’d never admit it to anyone but you, but I’ve always been jealous of them, of their family. I wanted what they had, with you. A loud, rowdy family that was held together by love instead of riches.

You and I didn’t have enough time. Hardly one year was not nearly enough time. I would’ve wanted to have you all to myself for a couple years, put a ring on that pretty finger and flaunt you around.

You were my anchor, Y/N, my reason for hope during the darkest times of the war. When everything seemed lost, you were the light that guided me through the storm.

But now, as I write these words, I find myself standing alone at your bedside, surrounded by the ghost of your presence, a haunting silence in place of your laugh, and the echo of promises left unfulfilled. I’m surrounded by memories of our time together, memories that now seem both painfully vivid and achingly distant.

The war has ended, but victory tastes bitter without you by my side. How can I celebrate when you are not here to share in the peace we fought so hard to achieve?

We made a pact, you and I. I remember the vow we made, Y/N, on that fateful night when the battle raged around us. We promised that nothing would tear us apart, not even death itself. Yet here I am, facing a reality where you are no longer by my side. You were taken from me, torn away in the final throes of the war, just as we dared to hope for peace.

And now, you’re gone. Taken from me by a world that seems intent on destroying everything good and pure. I am angry, Y/N. Angry at the universe for robbing me of the one person who made me feel whole. Angry at you for making me believe that we could have a future together, only to leave me to face this empty world alone.

How could you leave me like this? How could you promise to never leave and then be taken from me, just as we were on the brink of the life we dreamed of?

You made me believe that I deserved love, that letting someone in wouldn’t be a mistake, that it would bring me more joy than pain. But then, what is this agony I feel? Would I have felt this way if I’d refused to give in all that time ago?

The truth is, I can’t even blame you. Because I know that even if I hadn’t given in, I still would’ve loved you from afar, and the pain of losing you would still be this unbearable.

The ache of knowing that I will never again hear your voice, or feel your touch, or see your smile is torturous. The pain of knowing that our dreams will never come to fruition, that our love story has been cut short before it truly began.

In the days since you left me, I have tried to find solace in memories of our time together. Every laugh, every touch, every shared moment is etched into my soul, a bittersweet reminder of what once was and what will never be again. I miss you more than words can say, and the emptiness inside me grows with each passing day.

They say time heals all wounds, but how can time soothe a heart so irreparably broken? Every beat is a reminder of your absence, every breath a struggle to fill the void you left behind. I carry your love like a precious burden, cherished and painful in equal measure. In every quiet moment, I still feel your presence, as if you linger just beyond reach, waiting for me to join you.

I have made a decision, my love. As I stand here before you, I know that I cannot go on without you. My heart belongs to you and you alone, and I cannot bear to face a future where your laughter does not fill the air. I hope you can forgive me for this selfish act, for choosing to follow you rather than endure a life without you.

With this letter, I relinquish the burden of my sorrow and embrace the peace that awaits us beyond this world. I will find you again, of this I am certain, for our love is eternal and boundless, a beacon that will guide me through the darkness until we are reunited once more.

Until that day, my love, hold me in your heart as I hold you in mine.

Wherever you are now, Y/N, my heart will always be with you. In this life and the next, we will be together again, for love knows no boundaries, not even death itself.

Wait for me, beautiful girl. I’m coming back to you. I’ll still need another kiss when I see you once more.

Until we meet again, my beloved,

Your Mattheo

[lionhanie]

han taesan ; end up here

maybe a tad angsty (taesan is an overthinker), fluff at end!, campus crush (he's literally in love with you), college au, reader is a baddie mhm yep yep

word count: 2.2k wtf

warnings: cursing, implied insecurity (taesan), alcohol usage, alcohol + weed mention, party setting, i'm literally so cliche but idgaf

this work is part of my boynextdoor as old 5sos songs series! ↳ if you want to listen to the song, here u go!

a/n: everyone rejoice... other members are mentioned >:D ok i lied. i tried to fit everyone in but it's mainly riwoo & leehan. and it felt wrong to find a way to include woonhak in a college party where there are Drugs and Alcohol buttttt hope u enjoy mwuwhuwhuh

likes ♡ and reblogs ↺ always appreciated!

taesan really didn’t want to go to this party, but riwoo and leehan had insisted it would be more fun than staying in his dorm room writing song lyrics the third weekend in a row. not that he doesn’t want to party, but he’d rather spend his time doing something he’s /actually/ interested in-- and right now, it doesn’t include making awkward small talk with strangers he will probably never see again in a sweaty led-lit room with mediocre music in the background. 

“taesan… come on! i understand that you love making music, but don’t you think it’s time to come out with us? just this once?” riwoo pleads with him, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. reluctantly, taesan spins around in his chair, turning to face his friend properly. 

“ah, i knew i shouldn’t have turned around. it’s so much easier to say no to you when i’m not looking at your face. put those puppy eyes away, i’ll go change.” he gives in a bit easier than he initially intended to, unable to hide his smile at the way riwoo does a dance of celebration at his successful convincing. 

leehan, currently leaning on the doorframe, chuckles at the sight. “i don’t think it’d be bad for you to go out with us from time to time,” he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose before continuing his thought, “maybe you’ll find some more song inspiration while we're out.”

taesan rolls his eyes and ushers the two out of his room, quickly changing into one of his favorite shirts and fixing his hair in the mirror. after grabbing a couple of accessories and checking himself out in the mirror one last time, the trio make their way to the house in question. it’s only a party, it shouldn't be too bad... 

“wow, the weather’s perfect tonight.” leehan admires, hands in his pockets as they walk through campus, warmly lit by the streetlights scattered around. the crisp night air only seems to give taesan cold feet, as he feels the sudden urge to turn around and walk back to the laptop waiting for him in his dorm (despite being only a couple seconds away from their destination). almost expecting this to happen, riwoo stops in his tracks, causing taesan to bump into him.

riwoo crosses his arms, ready to give the best pep talk of his life. “i swear i can hear your thoughts. dude, don’t overthink this! it’s just another one of jaehyun’s parties, nothing crazy. we’re gonna have fun tonight!" riwoo frowns at taesan's doubtful expression. "leehan, help me out here.”

“i’m sure you’ll recognize at least half the people there. plus, you look cool.” leehan pats him on the back as a means of reassurance before putting his arm around taesan, practically dragging him through the door. 

upon entering, taesan is immediately reminded of the last time his two friends convinced him to go out with them-- it reeked of cheap weed, the music absolutely sucked, and to top it all off, someone spilled their mystery drink (?) all over his shirt. never again, he told himself that night.

but here he was, red solo cup in hand as he followed his two friends around while they greeted various people around the room. taesan actually could not recognize anyone else except his classmates, sungho and jaehyun, who were sitting on the couch against the wall. the concoction in his cup was barely touched, disgustingly sweet because of the various juices in it, and alcohol too strong to enjoy it in the slightest. maybe he should’ve stayed home.

“you walked in, everyone was asking for your name / you just smiled and told them trouble” 

“no way…is that y/n? y’know, i was convinced you’d never show up to one of my parties, but here you are!” jaehyun nearly jumps up from his place on the couch, hugging you at the entrance before shoving a cup full of who-knows-what into your hand. no way, indeed.

never did taesan think he would end up seeing his campus crush as close as he is now. this is crazy. he finds himself straightening his posture suddenly, even going as far as taking a big gulp of the drink in his hand, despite its unappealing taste. he'd noticed you early into the semester, finding you sitting with your friends out in one of the common areas outside his classes. he didn’t think much of it-- that is, until he kept seeing you. like, everywhere. he'd never admit it to himself, but he soon found himself looking forward to seeing you around. eventually, it got to the point where he started dressing a little nicer on the days he knew you’d be there, in hopes that you might notice him too. 

“i think some of your friends are here already, y/n. oh, a few of my friends from class came too, you'll love them!” jaehyun encourages you to introduce yourself on the spot. while slightly flustered, you look around the room with a smile as you wave to the various people.

“shit, how many friends do you have?” you joke, taking a sip from your cup before properly introducing yourself to a room full of, well, strangers. “nice to meet you everyone, i’m y/n!” you do a little twirl, which earns a couple whistles from around the room. taesan swore he felt the room brighten up with your arrival. your presence felt like a breath of fresh air in a stuffy room full of people. he moves to take another gulp of his drink as the two of you lock eyes briefly, making him cough before he could properly swallow. 

“y/n…who’s that? you know them?” leehan questions from next to him, pointing his cup in the direction of the front door. taesan only hums and shakes his head ‘no’ in response, his eyes glued to you as you dance along with the friends you’d just greeted. 

“my head spins / i’m pressed against the wall just watching your every move / you’re way too cool / now you’re coming this way” 

despite his sudden reluctance to drink when he first got there, taesan found himself with a freshly replenished cup planted in his hand as he leaned against the wall. the alcohol was starting to get to him; he could definitely feel the buzz with the way the room felt like it got a couple degrees hotter. or maybe it was just you being there that was making him warmer than he was ten minutes ago. he was vaguely listening to the conversation his classmates were having next to him, but his eyes always found their way back to you. he’s seeing you in a completely different light. normally, he’d be one to briefly admire from afar as he walked out of his lecture hall; now, you’re here. 

and all of a sudden it’s a little too real, because what do you mean he gets to see you laugh and dance around with your friends…? you’re just supposed to be the campus crush he never gets the chance to make a move on. wait. this is his chance to make a move, isn’t it? oh god, what if he doesn’t get another opportunity like this to talk to you without looking like some weird dude who’s been looking at you across campus-

“how did we end up talking in the first place? / you said you liked my cobain shirt”

“cool shirt. kurt cobain, yeah?” oh shit. and now you’re in front of him. riwoo elbows taesan, which was his way of telling him ‘good luck.’ the action snaps him out of his thoughts, eyes widening ever so slightly before he clears his throat.

“yeah, it is. you know nirvana then?” he scratches the back of his head, noticing his friends moving their conversation away from the two of you out of his peripheral vision. he mentally curses them out, because now this conversation feels like he needs to make sure he doesn’t make a fool out of himself, and now there’s no one there to butt in and save him. 

“obviously! you can’t say you know kurt cobain if you don’t know who nirvana is.” you beam at him as you finish the drink you were holding in your hand. his campus crush listens to one of his favorite artists, surely this isn’t real.

“taesan,” he blurts out, “i’m taesan, by the way. and you are..?” he waits for your response, as if your name wasn’t the only thing floating in his mind the second jaehyun welcomed you inside. (this is his attempt of being nonchalant btw)

“i’m y/n!” you look down at your empty cup briefly before looking around the room aimlessly. “do you want to get out of here?”

“what? you want to… leave?” with him? like this? now he’s almost sure this is some sort of prank or something. he’s taken aback at the bold request, clearly confused at what the hell is going on.

“it’s hot in here. and loud. you don’t want to step outside for a minute?” you placed your cup down on a random table, already making your way towards the door. you look at taesan, extending out your hand for him to grab so you can drag him through the crowd. 

oh, you just want to get some fresh air. okay. that makes a lot more sense. he’s glad the lighting is so bad in there, as he’s almost certain his ears are red as he looks at your waiting hand. he mimics your actions, putting his cup down on the counter before finally placing his hand in yours and letting you lead the way. 

“now we’re walking back to your place / you’re telling me how you love that song about living on a prayer” 

the two of you sit side by side on the curb outside the house, slowly getting more used to each other as you go on about random topics-- first, it was music... then clothes... eventually turning into a never-ending stream of conversation topics neither of you wanted to put an end to. he’s in awe of the situation he’s currently in: you look so beautiful under the streetlights, and you keep laughing at his jokes, and maybe the weather really is perfect tonight, just as leehan said earlier.

...taesan doesn’t exactly know how he finds himself sitting on your living room floor, but he vaguely remembers you complaining about how your outfit was too uncomfortable and you desperately needed to change. he instinctively offers to walk you back to your apartment to get some comfier clothes on; you even offer him one of your bigger hoodies for him to change into. it was still a little small for his liking, but he accepts your kind gesture happily.

much to his satisfaction, the conversation never dies. hours pass as you two continue talking about anything and everything. the things you miss from your hometowns, embarrassing childhood stories, outrageous things you've witnessed at past parties you've been to-- and it all flows so naturally. taesan swears he is in love, because even though he was lucky enough to find a great group of friends at uni, he’d never clicked with someone like this so fast, let alone the person he's been crushing on for weeks now. 

“my friends say i should lock you down / before you figure me out and you run away / but you don’t and you won’t / as you kiss me and you tell me that you’re here to stay” 

taesan is disappointed when he wakes up. damn it, he knew it was a dream. he blinks a couple times before reaching for his phone on his nightstand, only to be met with… carpet? and you, his campus crush, the person he spent the entire night talking to until you both eventually fell asleep on the apartment floor next to each other, laying on the carpet two feet away from him. sitting up almost immediately, he covers his mouth in disbelief as he takes in the situation, desperately looking for where his phone is without making too much noise.

→ 6 missed texts from The Boyz groupchat! riwoo: taesanieeee did u go back to the dorm without telling us :(  leehan: Wasn’t he talking to y/n? leehan: Check outside sungho: yeah, he’s still out there talking to them sungho: leave him be lmao jaehyun: actually? this isn’t really y/n’s type of crowd jaehyun: i’m surprised they haven’t gone home yet LOL keep up the good work taesan ;)

he puts his phone down on the floor, letting out a sigh as he places his head in his hands. oh god, and they’re already on him about this. he can’t help but let the last message jaehyun sent get to his head. not your crowd, huh? yeah, makes sense. after all, you shone so bright last night, it’s only reasonable for them to think that you probably wouldn’t get along with a guy who practically hugged the wall the whole time.

“he’s just trying to psych you out, you know.” you ran your hands through your hair as you stretch, taesan’s phone in hand. he shoots up immediately, in shock at the realization that you were awake and that you read the texts on his phone. “sorry for taking a peek at your groupchat, was just curious about what had you sulking so early in the morning.” you pass it back to him, his cheeks visibly flushed in embarrassment; the sunlight shining through the blinds only illuminating his current flustered state further. 

“i wasn’t planning on coming to the party last night, by the way. i only showed up because he told me you’d be there. you think i haven’t noticed you around campus too?” you smile at him from your place on the floor, moving over to give him a peck on the cheek. he thinks it’s insane how charming you can get, even if you just woke up. “stop worrying so much-- i’m here to stay, taesan. only if you treat me to breakfast though.” 

taesan doesn’t exactly know how he ended up here, but he was almost certain he'd found his new muse.

© lionhanie 2024 ; all rights reserved!

[bunnyrafe]

𓊆ྀིrafe gets high before you two have very important plans𓊇ྀི

content / warnings -> 18+, MDNI. 600 f / kook!reader, high / mean!rafe, drug use, addiction, toxic relationship, light violence, angst (hurt & comfort).

Truthfully— you’ve never been this angry at him before.

You believe you both reached a new low the second he walked through your bedroom door with shaky hands and blown out pupils, a mere hour and a half before dinner with your parents. Immediately you pout, the light in your eyes dissipates, and then the rage takes over. You stand up from your vanity, finding yourself pointing and screaming before you can blink. You don’t allow him a chance to begin running his mouth or start spewing bullshit excuses you’ve heard one too many times already.

“You promised me you’d be sober, Rafe!”

He doesn’t seem to be bothered by your smaller hands smacking his own away or the tears collecting at your painted lashes. Rafe only cares about himself when he’s high. So he grabs up your waist, attempting to press kisses to your freshly blushed cheeks to calm you down—

“Princess...”

“Fuck off,” you sniffle between the words.

At that, Rafe’s eyes narrow. Fury pools in his irises, forcing a shiver down your spine and fear induced heat to prickle at the back of your neck. Your glossy lips part, staring up at him while he closes in on you. His handsome but contorted features a mere inch away from your own— you can smell it on him— a mixture of chemicals and weed smoke, some bourbon disguised by mint gum on his breath as the cherry on top. His teeth clench as he speaks, “You need to watch that fucking mouth of yours, do you understand?”

“Let go of me,” you squeal. Only for Rafe’s arms to tighten around you, practically swinging you back and forth as you try to escape him.

“I said— fuckin’ stop,” Rafe growls, trying his best to hold you right against his brick wall of a chest. Your squirming and fighting dies down just enough for him to keep you planted there while he continues on, a large hand gripping your jaw and giving your pretty head a little shake that makes a whimper crawl up your throat, “I asked if you understand. ‘Cause if my girl thinks she can keep runnin’ her mouth like that, we’re gonna— gonna have a big problem.”

It hits you then. A wave of shame and regret when you realize how stupid it was of you to ever question him. Let alone defy him… to start something you could never finish with the way you’re wrapped around his finger. You’re full blown sobbing now, sniveling and shaking, “But you promised me…”

Maybe there are a lot of bad bones in Rafe’s body. God knows that's true. But if there’s one complete and utter soft spot he has in this world, it’s you. Watching you so upset, even when it’s brought on by him, makes him nervous. Makes him weak at the knees and nauseous. He’s quick to shush you, whispering out sweet names and squeezing you in his hold while you hiccup pathetic noises.

“Oh, princess.” He breathes out. He’s guiding you to your bed, and you’re now pliant enough to let him lay you down. His fingers mess with the strings on your silk robe. They tug until the garment comes loose, barely covering your trembling body from him so he can nuzzle his face into the soft, perfumed skin of your chest.

“I’m sorry, okay? I-I’ll get ready right now— show your parents that their little girl has the best man, alright?”

You nod once. When you look at him with those tear filled eyes, he feels a dagger through his heart. Your lashes flutter and it slows down the drumming in his chest brought on by the drugs, knocks the breath right out his lungs. It’s enough to have him suddenly acting right…

[marymary-diva17]

Tonowari x Fem Reader x Ronal (poly mates)/ Aonung x Tsireya x Rotxo x Fem Reader (platonic/parental relationship) / Kiri x Fem Reader (platonic/parental relationship):

The Reader is mated to Tonowari and Ronal. She is a well respected warrior and is seen as being scary (even by her mates and kids) but in reality is a big softy. Anyways this will be after the Sully’s get there around the time when Aonung and his friends bully Kiri. So the Sully’s have heard about the Reader and the things going around about her (rumors or ideas that people have about her) and after the whole bulling situation Kiri decides to spent some time by herself and happens to run into the Reader. At first she is and apprehensive of the Reader but the Teader invites her over and they stay to talk and get along. Over the course of a few weeks Kiri has been basically sneaking off or leaving by herself to spend time with the Reader (everybody is confused on where Kiri is going). When both families (Kiri’s and the Readers)find out they tell her to stop swing the Reader for her safety but she defends the Reader and things blow up and Kiri runs away. Later that night the clan is looking for Kiri but can’t find her so they ask the only person who might know (Reader) and when they find the Reader they see Kiri with her and witness the Reader being the opposite of what they thought(being really sweet and comforting to Kiri). And in the end the clan accepts Reader. (Sorry that Kiri is so out of character and it’s really long) 😁😁

There was a human saying don’t judge a book by it cover, and if you are going to judge couldn’t someone before you see them for themselves. Those sayings seems to be forgotten when it came to a very specific Navi female, who was seen as something else by her own family and family. It seems like someone had decided to give her a chance, another Navi who was judge as well.

Y/n “ it a very warm day” it a very good day in the village along with it being some days, since the sully family and company had arrived seeking refuge. They had been given refuge by your mates who approved of them staying her and learning the ways.

y/n " good morning" you had sene some hunter gather by the water and wave over to them, they had looked up to see you. It seems like they had soon left the area or didn't do that much. It was something you had become use to while growing up, as you had been seen as different by everyone else. Most of the clan and other had seen you as freak, and had questioned tonowari and ronal why they become your mates. It seems like your were labeled as someone to keep away from, along with being bad example as well. It had broken your heart and spirt that everyone saw you as embarrassment or not navi like everyone else, it the most when it came from your own family as well.

y/n " ........" you soon sighed as you had gone on with the rest of your day, hoping nothing else will happen. It was until the afternoon when are walking around the shore, when sound of voice had gained your attention.

???? " are you some type of freak"

???? " did you hear what he said he called you a freak"

????? " your whole family is full of freaks"

y/n " hey what going on over here" you had seen your son along with some other teens, bothering the sully family daughter kiri.

Y/n " I said what going on here so someone should be speaking, up right now"

aonung " we were just talking that all nothing to bad"

y/n " it seems more then talking aonung I thought you knew better then to bully someone, same goes for all you boys as well we should be working together not against each other"

teen boy " sorry we didn't mean it"

y/n " well it did seems like that to my view point, and the same could be said from kiri parents ... dearie are you okay"

kiri " I'm now"

y/n " good now you boys run along I might be having some words, with all your parents later on"

teen boy 2 " yes y/n"

y/n " aonung I will be having some words with you my son"

aonung " yes mom come on guys" aonung and his friends soon leave, as you soon walked closer to the teenage girl. Kiri seems like she was close to tears and very upset about the whole situation.

y/n " are you sure everything is fine"

kiri " I don't know I was just minding my business and see the beauty of the water, then aonung and his friends had come over to bothering me .... calling my names and my family as well"

y/n " I'm sorry for my son and his friends behavior I thought I raised him to be good"

kiri " wait are you the other mate of ronal and tonowari, the one we had been told about"

y/n " yes it seems like the words about me have been told to your family already"

kiri " yes it seems like that not many people had spoken well about you, saying you are someone I and my siblings should stay away from if alone .... as you were descried to be odd and not full navi"

y/n " yes just like you and your family I'm different and that has effected my image to everyone even my family"

kiri " that is very sad and no one should be treated that way"

y/n " you are right if you are fine with it will like to join me for some lessons, to help you understand more of what the great mother has to offer us"

kiri " sure I will love that but I hope I will not be a bother"

y/n " you will not young lady now come there are some things, I will love to show you"

Weeks later

y/n " you are getting better kiri it seems like the ocean has welcome you"

kiri " thank you y/n since you have been helping me I have been, feeling better with my new surroundings and it good to have someone else to speak with outside my family"

y/n " well I'm happy to hear I have been able to help you"

kiri " everyone is wrong about you and your children are foolish to, not see a wonderful mother you are ... I'm sorry for my tone and words"

y/n " it okay kiri I do wish everyone saw me in a positive light like you"

????? " kiri" you and kiri soon heard someone yelling kiri name, the both soon looked up to see neytiri making her way towards them. She was not very happy at the moment as she was soon followed by Jake.

neytiri " kiri where have you been"

kiri " I was off with y/n mom she been helping me and giving me advice as well, she is very nice"

y/n " hello neytiri and Jake it good to see you both this wonderful day"

neytiri " we have told you again and again to stay away from this women, she is bad news and has a awful reputation"

kiri " mom"

Jake " kiri we are doing what best for you"

????? " y/n" you soon looked to see your mates standing there along with the kids and sully kids.

tonowari " y/n why have you been teaching kiri verse tsireya teaching her"

y/n " I was just helping kiri that all she also has been attending tsireya lesson as well"

ronal " you have caused a issues for us all"

neytiri " I want you away from my daughter she has bright future, and I wish for her not to become like you a women who unloved by her own mates and children ... no worried you have never had a child with tonowari that will be sad"

kiri " mom she a mother to aonung, rotxo, and tsireya"

neytiri " they don't see her like that we all that and she lives on her own, she just like spider someone who ever take pity on but really wants away"

y/n " neytiri I'm just being a mentor to your daughter that all she was having a hard time, I was just being a teacher that all ... if you listen to your daughter you will understand we are both mother we both care of our kids

neytiri " you are no mother and I hope you never become one, everyone thinks poorly of you and that will pass down to your kids ... ask tonowari why he avoids having a kid with you"

y/n "tonowari"

tonowari " i and ronal think it best if we have the kids at the moment, it for the benefit for the clan and family"

y/n " I undestand"

Neytiri " if you understand leave my daughter alone leave my kids alone, as well don't ever come near my family again or any other youth"

y/n " then if you wish it I will make sure that happens I will stay away from your family, for safety and your family reputation I will stay away from everyone ... if need I will leave"

kiri " no y/n this is your home and your clan"

y/n " it okay kiri maybe the great mother has plans for me outside of here .. I will be okay I will always be okay" you soon bid goodbye saying nothing else as you left. As you are walking away you felt so much pain in your heart and soul.

Later that night

y/n " ........" you are in your home alone as dinner was cooking over the fire.

????? " hello" you soon looked at the entrance to see kiri standing there, you soon gave her a soft smile.

y/n " come inside kiri"

kiri " I'm sorry for what my mother had said it was uncalled for and, very rude towards you"

y/n " it okay my dear I have become use to behaviors like that"

kiri " you are a mother no matter what neytiri has said"

y/n " I always felt like and mother and I wil always be a mother, even if my kids didn't accept me as a mother I will be there for them my home will always be open to them"

kiri " how do you deal with all of it on daily basis y/n even as an adult"

y/n " I just let them say what they want to say and go on with my life, and can't lets always allow their words and actions ruin my life ... anymore life is beautiful and I'm going to live the life I want ... you should live the life you want kiri"

kiri " thank you"

y/n " I know spider will be back with you and if he needs somewhere to stay, he can stay here I will never lets a child be alone in this world"

kiri " thank you" you had smiled towards kiri she had stayed the night feeling not like going home, after she said she got in fight with her family. She laid on tsreyia mat fast asleep you had cleaned everything up, thinking about how you wanted to live your life after today.